


Howl At The Moon

by JailynnW



Series: Werewolf!Jaime series [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Dubious Consent, Eventual Romance, Everything is really tame, F/M, Friendship, Human!Brienne, Hunters, Knotting, Mating Bond, Pining, References to Knotting, Secrets, Sex as a Weapon, Sexual Tension, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Love Story, Underage Sex, Werewolf!Jaime, Werewolves, alpha wolf, dark themes, sex as manipulation, talk of knotting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-08-14 03:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 110,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: Jaime Lannister waited. His entire life, all six and ten years of it, was about anticipating this moment. He would be free and he feltit. The pull of the moon as its light crawled across his floor, the call of the wild was singing in his veins.**//**All the noble Houses share a secret: they are all werewolves. Brienne has no idea what she is walking into when she meets the Lannister's.





	1. The Call of The Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what to say. I have been thinking about this story for a while and since I am stuck on some of my other ones, I thought I would at least write the first chapter. This story will probably not be updated as quickly as others, but i really love the concept. I hope you do as well.
> 
> **//**
> 
> Thank you to my beta: Merrymaya for being her awesome self. And for making the amazing banners
> 
> **//**

The night was quiet, still, unbroken by the creatures that would soon roam free. Houses of high ranking nobles prepared for the evening ahead. The winds started whispering through the windows, a warning to stay inside. It was the first night... The light from the moon, large and round, ascended high above the darkish gray clouds.

Jaime Lannister waited. His entire life, all six and ten years of it, was about anticipating this moment. He would be free and he felt _it_. The pull of the moon as its light crawled across his floor, the call of the wild was singing in his veins. The temptation to run and own and prowl clawed in his chest. He tossed and turned on his bed. He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. His muscles were clenching and rolling and changing. His brow was covered in sweat. His bones cracked and popped back into place in a different way. He moaned in agony. He fell from the bed, running out of his chamber and into the forest surrounding his home. His hands and feet elongated, nails became claws, palms and heels became paws. He was pushed to the ground on all fours. The hair covering his body grew thicker and longer. Golden fur soon covered him, springing from his body as the animal he was took shape. He screamed as his back arched. His vision blurred. He blinked. The crisp colors he was used to seeing turned slightly muted, but that was the only dull thing.

He moved over to the lake before him and stared at his reflection. A wolf stared back. Larger than any of the normal wolves which claimed these woods during the day. The direwolves from legend _were_ south of that famous Northern wall... His jade eyes reflected in the rippling water, but not his face... That was transformed into his true form. His family's secret. The secret shared with all the high ranking noble Houses. The reason they ruled and others feared them.

Jaime lifted his head and let out a long howl to the full moon high above him. Other wolves called back. Family members who were there to celebrate Cersei's and his name day prowled the woods. This night was the first night of the moon phase. Even through the pain of the transformation, Jaime always felt more like himself than he ever did in his human body. His paws dug into the cool earth below him. Scratching lines into the soft dirt and slightly damp grass. The wind blew harder through the leaves, rustling the branches. The animal in his soul embraced the wildness of nature and he jumped over a rotted out stump, taking off deep into the forest. The scenery passed him quickly as he ran.

Rabbits and rodents jumped out of his way, going this way and that. Crickets and frogs sang a summer song. His tongue hung out of his mouth, tasting everything around him. The air had a moisture to it, wetting his fur. Crows cawed overhead, flying through the sky. His sharp eyes watched them all. He felt one with each animal around him. It was freeing to be so connected to all the creatures. He _was_ free.

This was his favorite time. Just as the moon was rising and the night was beginning. There was so much to do and experience. Jaime and Cersei had planned for this night. At the age of six and ten, werewolves were able to split from the pack and explore on their own. Before that age, they needed training on how to stay hidden and how to hunt without getting _hunted_. Cersei was the one to pick the place in the forest. A small brook far from the castle, with enough covering to hide from others what they intended to do with each other. Jaime's heart raced and lust flooded his body. They had been intimate before- but never in this form. Never without worrying about being caught.

A woman's scream broke through the quiet of the forest. He turned his head toward the sound. His ears twitched and flicked. Another scream. A loud, brawny laugh. The sound of clothes ripping. He raced toward it. His heart was thumping to the beat of his paws on the ground. His blood, which only moments ago was filled with lustful wanting, was now singing with the instinct to protect. He stopped on a small hill which overlooked a clearing. In the distance, he saw it. A woman- young, too young by half- was pushed against a tree. Her bodice was ripped in two, revealing the modest chest of a woman just starting to bloom. She was whimpering as a man pressed a knife into her neck and was slobbering onto her chest. His muscles clenched. She was but a child really.

He sniffed at the air. Fear mingled with arousal crowded his senses. Jaime was disgusted. His muzzle curled back and revealed his long fangs. He snarled low in his throat. A warning the man did not hear, but rapist's prey did. The girl looked over at him. Her eyes widened further and she screamed loudly again. The man pushed her skirts up with one hand and fumbled at the string of his breeches with the other, momentarily dropping the knife. The girl pushed against him hard, separating their bodies just enough. Jaime ran, full force, straight at him from the hill. He pounced quickly from the side, taking the male to the ground. His mouth was snapping violently at the man's neck. Jaime let the rage within him take control. Another scream was released in the quiet night, this one from the rapist. Jaime snarled, biting at the arm trying to push him off. All thought was gone from his mind. The madness was taking over and all he had was the desire to kill this bastard who dared to try and rape a young child.

He dug his claws into the man's chest, knocking the wind from his lungs, and angled his head down. Teeth ripped into flesh. The blood gushed into his mouth. The taste was strong- coppery, tangy- and Jaime pulled away. It was nothing like the animals he killed with his pack. The meat of his throat was softer and gave easily under Jaime's ferocious bite. He did not care for the taste of human blood, but the need to kill this man had him biting down again.

The fat, sweaty body under him stopped moving. Limbs going limp and falling at his sides. The heart under his paws stopped pumping life giving blood and Jaime knew it was over. It was quick. He lifted his head. The bite marks on the dead man's neck were deep and unmistakable. Death had come from a vicious animal attack. Father would not be pleased by his lack of control, but he did not care. Jaime raised his head toward the moon again. He howled over his kill. His first human kill.

He leaped from the body and looked over at the girl. She was shaking, holding her tattered dress to her body. He did not move toward her. She slumped against the tree behind her. Her sobs sounded loud in his head. When he took one step in her direction, she stiffened in fear and he stopped. He bent his head low, a sign of submission and lowered his front to the earth, almost in a bow. The sobbing slowed down to hiccups. He heard the fallen leaves crunch under her bare, bloody feet as she moved slowly in his direction.

Jaime did not wish to scare her. Werewolves, especially in his pack, could be volatile during their first moon phase by themselves. His father, Tywin, taught them early how to behave. His stern father didn't much care if they killed or caused trouble as long as they were never caught. The Lannister line, as well as all the other ruling Houses, had long been feared, but they knew how to cover their deeds well. This kill would be dealt with easily enough, but would still lead to a stern discussion about leaving evidence of their existence behind for humans, and especially werewolf hunters, to find.

The brunette fell to her knobby knees in front of him and tentatively reached a shaky hand out. Jaime lifted his head a little. The air smelled heavily of her fear and the metallic scent of the corpse's blood behind him. Up close he could see the dirt on her cheeks. Her skin was thin from lack of nutrition and her clothes hung off of her, not just because of the rapist pulling the material from her, but because she was woefully underfed.

He bumped her bone thin hand with his muzzle and she flexed her fingers. “I don't know wh're ya came from.” She leaned forward and pressed her face into the soft fur of his neck, hugging him in gratitude. “But I thank ya. Ya best be go'ng. I don't want yer to be killed for killin' 'im.”

She rose from the ground and started to limp away. Jaime shook his head, turning toward the body. He wanted to savor his kill, but something inside of him told him to follow the young girl. Being in the woods alone was dangerous on most nights, it was especially dangerous on the first phase of the full moon, with the Lannister werewolves roaming free. And he wasn't the only Lannister changing for the first time without supervision...

As if on cue, a howl sounded in the distance. One he recognized. One he would follow soon enough. Cersei was on the prowl as well, most likely looking for him, and she was more impulsive than he was. Jaime felt the need to answer back, to find her and freely be together under the moon, in the open, like he had dreamed of... instead he followed behind the young girl. He would find Cersei later. They still had two phases of the moon to go to be as they were meant to be. He was sure he would get the cold shoulder in the morn, but she could never stay mad at him long. She loved him and their time together too much.

The girl entered a hut on the outskirts of the woods. Jaime tilted his head. It could hardly be seen as shelter. The roof was rotting with big holes partially patched up, and the windows were cracked and broken. The door was barely hanging on its hinges and decaying as well. The girl was not safe here. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air, sharp eyes taking in every detail. He would return in the morning as Jaime Lannister- the son of Lord Lannister- maybe even bring Tyrion with him. He would offer this young woman a position at Casterly Rock as a handmaid or something of the like. He could not leave her here. Wolves were not the only predators as she knew.

And really the forests were dangerous after all.

////

** _Ten Years Later_ **

Brienne tried not to pout too much. She was anxious and tired from the lack of sleep. Her nails were bitten so far down they were starting to hurt and bleed. She closed her eyes as the carriage rocked on the uneven road. She would rather travel by horse, but her father made it clear that this was not to be. Selwyn Tarth worried she would intentionally out pace their traveling party and disappear to avoid her fate... Brienne wished her father didn't know her so well. She looked out the window at the trees, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“Stop it,” the harsh voice across from her snapped. She turned quickly to face her septa. The woman sat primly in her sit with her needle point on her lap. The older female who helped rear her was severe looking with pinched features and premature gray hair. She was slightly short and plump, but not fat. Her simple gown was modest, with a high neck and long sleeves. She looked much older than her two and forty. She narrowed her dark eyes at Brienne. “You are about to meet your betrothed, stop biting your lip. They are already much too large for your face. No need to make them bloody as well.”

“Yes, Septa Roelle,” Brienne sat back in the leather seat, slumping her shoulders to make herself seem smaller.

“Shoulders back,” the septa snapped.

Brienne complied, straightening her spine and pushing her shoulders back. “Do we know how much longer the trip will take till we arrive at Casterly Rock?”

“I did not think you would be that anxious to arrive,” Roelle said, starting her needle point again. “You did not seem happy about making the trip to the Sunset Sea.”

“I am not happy. This is not what I want,” Brienne admitted, harshly. She wasn't happy about any of what awaited her. She didn't want to be traded off like some prized animal. She wanted to have adventures. She wanted to be free to explore... but more immediately, she did not want to be trapped in this carriage any longer. The small interior made her feel like she was being suffocated. It also gave Septa Roelle more time to criticize her and magnify her every flaw... which she knew were plenty. Brienne, honestly, did not like her septa. The woman was cruel for the sake of being so. Often tearing her down for minor things- like wearing breeches instead of skirts. But she knew she would not have been allowed to make this jaunt without her supervision and she was _going_ to make the journey. She had to. Her father had arrived in Lannisport a moon turn before to finalize the details of her betrothal to the son of Lord Tywin Lannister. She held back her frown. “However I like being trapped in this rocking cage even less than the thought of marrying someone I do not know nor care about. This is ridiculous!” She felt a blast of shame rush through her for her outburst. Taking some calming breaths, she looked down at the ground, “I am sorry for my temper. I just wish for this trip to cease and to get some sleep.”

Roelle clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disapproval. “I believe I heard the coachman say it will be another day and a half before we arrive, so you best mind your tongue! Close your eyes if you must. When you meet the man you are to marry, you will be respectful... no matter how hard that will be for you.”

Brienne held herself back from commenting again. It would do no good to provoke the older woman, especially since they would be stuck together for another day at the very least. She crossed her arms over her meager chest and stared back out the window. The landscape was so much different than what she was used to. The Westerlands were much larger and rougher than her tiny island of Tarth. The trees grew differently, looked different. They appeared almost harsh, even in the brightness of the sun. On Tarth, everything was lush. The bluffs were filled with wildflowers, the meadows with thick blankets of dark green grass- the type of grass perfect to lay on and dream. There were hide-a-ways and waterfalls. The beaches were sugar white and feet sunk in when walking on them. The water, whether it be from the lakes, rivers or the seas, was clear and always warm.

It was a quiet place. The people lived simply, did unsophisticated things. They were not rich in much but the one thing Tarth _was_ rich in was marble. It gave the island wealth to continue when other places could not mine it themselves. The trade of their precious commodity had been rough of late. Wars were breaking out and that did not lend itself to extravagance. Many of Tarth's main trading partners were unable to buy the quantity of marble needed to keep the tiny island going. Her father had spent many a night pacing and worrying about how to shore up funds for his people until the exporting could start anew. It hurt her to see him that nervous and Brienne knew she could do nothing to help.

It had also caused him great stress that their home could be invaded as well. Tarth was a prime spot, sitting in between the Free Cities and the Stormlands. It would not have been the first time their island had been attacked, but it would be the first time they would not have the money to plan and execute a military defense. The army on Tarth was small at the best of times, now it was even smaller. The situation was bad and getting worse and Selwyn knew that, his daughter knew that, and- unfortunately for her- Tywin Lannister knew that as well.

Tywin saw an opportunity to marry his son off to a desperate minor Lord's daughter and took it- at least that's how Brienne saw it. In truth both families benefited from the union. Tarth gained necessary funds to ensure the safety of the people and Tywin would get an heir. Provided that she got with child... with her freakishly large, mannish figure she might not be able to. It was a thought pushed upon her by cruel people and one she secretly worried about herself.

The Lannisters were one of the richest families in the Seven Kingdoms and had ties to the Crown- through the marriage of Tywin's oldest daughter Cersei. They were powerful and many called them terrifying- not to their faces, never to their faces- but in whispers behind closed doors. Brienne had only seen Cersei Baratheon once, when she first wed Robert after he had claimed the throne from the Mad King, who had been poisoned by one in his inner circle. Rumors had been everywhere about who could have done it. The most believed rumor said that Aerys Targaryen was killed by Tywin himself. But nothing could ever be proven and no one dared to challenge him openly. This was why Tywin walked freely and Robert sat on the throne- that and Rhaegar denouncing his claim to wed Lyanna Stark. That union had almost caused another war. Lyanna had been promised to Robert when she ran off with Rhaegar. Tywin managed to work the broken betrothal to his advantage- just as he was doing with Brienne and the situation on Tarth- and he presented Cersei to the newly crowned King.

The rumors of Cersei's beauty were not false. She was golden and perfect. Her twin was said to be the same. Jaime Lannister was talked about as if he was part God. Brienne had never seen him up-close but had watched him fight once in a tourney. He _was_ a brilliant fighter. She remembered being taken with the way he seemed to sense his opponents moves before the competitor could even start them. She also remembered how women fell to his feet and how he seemed almost annoyed by the presence of anyone who wasn't part of his family. And more specifically his golden twin.

The final member of the Lannister's family was Tyrion Lannister. He was said to be the wittiest and most clever of the three. He was also rarely seen. He was a dwarf and disfigured. He was called 'the Little Monster' by Lords and Ladies who were brave enough to speak about him. That moniker did not bother Brienne in the least. She knew better than to judge someone from how they looked. The beautiful could be the most hateful and the ugly the most forgiving. She was also considered a monster by many. Her looks have earned her many mocking names- Brienne the Beauty being the most cruel for it's obvious jape at her. For she was anything but a beauty.

Brienne bit back a sigh and the desire to climb out of the moving carriage to go hide in the woods. She knew this union would be a farce. The arrangement a joke to those who heard about it. Brienne of Tarth was marrying into the famed Lannister's family. She felt tears gather. All she wanted was an adventure, but instead she would get a marriage. One of duty and force. One where children were expected and she would never be free to be herself.

////

Tyrion closed the book he had been pouring over. His eyes were slightly glazed over from staring at the pages in the dim candlelight. He placed the large leather bound book on the bedside table. His legs were especially painful this day. His last change had not gone well. The transformation from wolf to human took more out of him than it did for his siblings. It was especially frustrating to even have difficulties as a wolf. It seemed he would always fall just a bit short in that respect.

He rubbed his calves with his hands, trying to release the muscles which were clenching up. They continued to coil tighter, making his whole body tense with agony. He looked over at the book again. He had hoped to find something in there which would help him. The maesters who knew of the Lannisters' lineage had written copious notes, but none had encountered Tyrion's problem.

Just add it to the list of ways his body had betrayed him. He grimaced at his dour mood. It would do no good to anyone to be so pessimistic about his situation. Yes, it was not the best- being a werewolf dwarf came with a unique set of challenges. But he was alive, which many dwarves and werewolves could not claim.

He sighed in relief as the tightness of his legs loosened and he could move easily again. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and eased to the ground. Today was a big day and Tywin would expect him to, at least, attempt to live up to the Lannister's standard. Tyrion rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he was trying to make a good impression. It was a silly notion. All these pomp and circumstance for what?

Sliding on his breeches he grimaced again. Life really had a way of kicking him in the ass. He slipped his tunic over his head as the door to his chamber opened. He turned to face his older brother. Jaime dipped his head and entered without waiting for an invitation.

“Dear brother,” Tyrion sat on a chair and pulled on a pair of boots. He looked up at Jaime, who was dressed casually- a light tunic and leather riding pants. Tyrion swallowed his envy at how put together he looked even dressed like that. “Are you not dressing more formally? Today is the day that Lord Selwyn's daughter will arrive. Father will want us at our best to greet her.”

Jaime smiled, his expression pure cockiness. “Why should I try? The marriage has already been arranged. All I have to do is stand there and be charming. You are the one who has to work to make themselves presentable.”

“Yes,” Tyrion grumbled, buckling the last one on his boots. “I guess one of us does have to put forth more effort in that arena. But, while I will never be seen as a Golden Lion such as yourself, I do have plenty to make up for what you lack like.... in decorum for example.”

Jaime laughed loudly, “Propriety is boring, dear brother.” As he stopped laughing, Jaime looked over him with a calculating stare. “How are you this morn? The yells from last night sounded quite bad.”

“My legs have been in pain,” Tyrion admitted. “I have spent most of the morning hoping to find an easier way of transitioning. So far, I'm afraid, I have had no luck.”

“There has to be a way surely,” Jaime sat on the edge of the bed. “The family had produced werewolves for generations. There must have been another Lannister dwarf.” He tapped the book of their family's history. “There really is nothing in here?”

Tyrion shook his head, “I have read it and reread it again. There is nothing. I might have to find a way to suppress the wolf if this continues. I have read about potions...”

“Stop it,” Jaime snapped, his green eyes fierce. “We will find something else. I know you love being out there in the woods and it would be wholly unfair to have that taken from you.”

“I am used to unfair, Jaime,” he sighed and touched his brother's arm. “I love being a wolf, but this pain is more than I can take. My legs are twisted enough. I do not want to have my bones permanently ruined for a couple hours of freedom.”

“Tyrion, you more than any of us deserve to be free. I know it is not easy here.”

He shrugged, “Maybe we will find something to help me later, but not now.” He straightened himself to his full height- which was not much- and slid his jerkin on. “For now, we have a maiden to meet. Come, brother, Lady Brienne awaits.”

////

Jaime stood in the foyer between his father and Tyrion. His attention far off. Cersei was coming with Robert this night and they have already made plans to sneak away. It was the last night of the full moon and he wanted to spend it with her. They hadn't seen each other in many moons with her living in Kings Landing and he at the Rock. Tywin had made it a point to put a halt to any improper relationship between them... when he could.

It was hard to hide from their Alpha, but they have found creative ways of doing it. His body tingled with anticipation. He just had to do his duty and then he would be released to do as he wished. Tywin looked over at him, his pale green eyes flashing. Jaime dropped his gaze at once. His father was showing his dominance and Jaime felt the animal in him cower down. The doors opened and the bright sunlight flooded the foyer. Selwyn stepped through them with a tall person at his side.

Jaime squinted his eyes against the harsh light and frowned. This was Selwyn's _daughter_. The rumors about her were more favorable than he would have imagined. And they were _unfavorable_ to begin with. She took another step inside and grabbed her father's arm. Her shadow extended the length of the floor. Her pale pink dress hang on her body in odd ways. It was ill-fitting and she looked uncomfortable in it. Her blonde hair was braided simply and some of the strands were falling loosely around her broad and homely face. Her lips were large. Not large enough, however, to cover her horse like teeth. Her cheeks had patches of deep red and it seemed the color was flooding her neck as well. Her shoulders were thick with muscles and she had no teats to speak of. Nothing about her proclaimed her a woman- she could be a man in a dress for the look of her.

_She truly is a beast. Cersei is going to lick her lips when she sees Lady Brienne,_ Jaime thought with a grimace.

Selwyn stepped forward and presented his daughter to Tywin. “Lord Tywin,” the large man with the booming voice said. “This is my heir and daughter, Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

Tywin bent at the waist, taking Brienne's free hand in his. Jaime could see she was shaking, the pulse in her neck fluttering. Her teeth came out to bite at her bottom lip before she caught herself and she rolled her lips together.

“Lady Brienne,” Tywin waited, his patience barely holding true. She squeaked softly and fumbled her way through a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“And you, Lord Lannister,” She said slowly raising up. Her voice did not fit her body. It was rather light, pleasant. Jaime liked the way it sounded, it was calming to him. She let go of Tywin's hand and smiled slightly, “Thank you for opening up your home to my father and to me.”

Tywin's lips twitched. It was as close to a smile as he would give. Jaime was quite honestly impressed at that. “I would like to introduce my sons.” She nodded her head quickly. “This,” he pointed in Jaime's direction, “is Jaime. He is my oldest.”

Her eyes locked with his and his breath caught quite suddenly. He blinked rapidly. Well, that was an unexpected reaction. His gaze met hers again. Her eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen. They were gorgeous sapphire pools that he wanted to dive into. He swallowed roughly as she moved closer to him, reminding himself of his place and why they were there.

He took her hand in his. Her palm was rough and soft, all at once. Calloused where a blade's hilt would rest. He knew his hand would feel the same. _She must be a fighter._ The thought intrigued him almost as much as her eyes had. Jaime bowed, “Lady Brienne.”

She curtsied again, this time with more confidence. “Lord Jaime, it is a pleasure.”

He inhaled as she bent down. He caught the scent of her skin. It was light with a hint of sweetness, sea breeze and salt. Lady Brienne was a contradiction and it made Jaime's head spin. He was not fond of the feeling. His smile became all teeth. She pulled her hand from his at the expression. A frown formed between her brows for a moment before she steeled the confusion away and annoyance replaced it. Their eyes held for just a beat longer then she turned away from him. Her posture dismissing him. Jaime wanted to snarl and snap at her. How dare she dismiss _him_! He should be the one disgusted with her- and he was, he confirmed in his mind. This half woman was nothing.

She turned to the other Lannister. He watched her smile widen. Jaime did allow his displeasure to show this time.

“This is my other son,” Tywin said with less fondness, as he pointed further past Jaime to where Tyrion was standing. “Tyrion.”

Brienne moved over to the dwarf, holding her hand out to him and curtsied for the final time. “I have heard much about you, Lord Tyrion.”

His brother smiled ruefully. “All good I hope.” He kissed her knuckles and she laughed softly.

“Many have spoken about your intelligence,” her voice was the softest he had heard. This was meant to be a conversation for two. She did not know that she would have to be much quieter to achieve that. Of course, had he not been a werewolf he probably would not have heard her at all.

“But,” his brother looked a little put out, his voice dropping as well. “Most have spoken about my less than dashing looks.”

“Rumors are always spread by people with too much time on their hands.” Her voice held a knowing tone to it. Brienne had been talked about as well, she _understood_. Jaime's eyebrows shot up at the words. He was about to bare his teeth if she spoke ill of his brother, especially with how she looked, but stopped when she continued. “I am quite certain rumors of my beauty have reached your ears as well. Some less than flattering words about me, mayhaps?”

Tyrion laughed, loud and full. The first time in too long by Jaime's estimation. “I have heard many things, it is true. I can't wait to see what will be proven right and what will be proven undoubtedly wrong about you, my Lady.”

“And I you, my Lord.” She took her hand back. “Seeing as we are to be wed, I believe we have quite a lot to learn about each other.”

“Yes,” Tyrion grinned. “I believe we do.”

Jaime watched them leave the room and turned toward his father. Tywin's sharp eyes watched the entire exchange. Jaime could tell he was pleased with himself. “This will be an interesting match.”

“Indeed, Jaime, indeed” Tywin nodded. The Alpha turned to the only human left besides the servants. “Lord Selwyn, would you care to have a glass of wine in my solar? I believe we should celebrate this union between our houses.”

Selwyn looked uneasy for a second, glancing at the entryway Tyrion and Brienne had walked through. His blue eyes were wide. Lord Selwyn did not know that his daughter was marrying into a werewolf pack, but he knew enough about the Lannisters to be weary. Jaime could see the doubt about what he had done creeping in. Tywin must have seen it as well because he relaxed and released a subtle pheromone. Selwyn's unease melted away and he grinned at the head of the Lannister family, “A glass of wine sounds like the perfect way to celebrate.”

The two older gentlemen left the foyer and headed toward his father's study. Jaime looked at the entryway which had last contained his brother and his betrothed. His back stiffened when he remembered how she had disregarded him so immediately. The wolf in him growled at the image of her in his head. _The ugly wench!_ He sniffed the air and he pulled a face. Her light and airy scent lingered, tickling his senses. A thought raced through his mind. Cersei would smell her... He knew his sweet sister and her past. Cersei would not take kindly to another woman's scent on him, but there was very little he could do so close to the full moon. Brienne's light fragrance would permeate the air. He tried not to think about the fact that he found it so pleasant.

////

Brienne walked at Tyrion's side in the gardens. Septa Roelle walked behind them to make sure nothing unseemly happened between them. She clasped her hands behind her back and tried to think of something to say to her betrothed. She felt the pressure mount as she tried to be witty. She was rarely accused of being such. Looking around her, she saw a beautiful stone water fountain with a maiden holding a pitcher of flowing water. She sat gently on the stone work and waited for Tyrion to sit as well.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to him, “I am sorry my Lord. It appears my wits have left me and I'm not sure what to say. Please, if you would be kind, help me along.”

Tyrion tilted his head, his mismatched eyes watching her closely. Brienne shifted uncomfortably. His eyes were unsettling to her. The black one was hard to read and the green one held too much intelligence. It seemed as if he saw right through her, leaving her exposed. Knowing herself as she did, she was not put at ease with anyone looking too intimately at her. Her insecurities always floated to the surface in the form of an unflattering ruddy blush. It made her aware of her size, her lack of womanly charm, the freckles which were scattered all about her face, neck, back and chest. Brienne looked away and focused on the blooming flowers of the garden.

“You are quite innocent,” he said.

That got her attention and she turned back to him. “I am not that young, my Lord. I am six and ten.”

He nodded, “Innocence does not always have to do with age. I fear I was born an old man and have never been as clean-handed as others before me.”

“What do you mean?”

“At birth I became a murderer,” Tyrion seemed to be saying the words for a reason. She swallowed. It felt like a test. “My sweet sister has condemned me of this crime from my first breath... others have as well.”

“Your mother died birthing you,” she guessed. At his nod, she sighed, sad for this man she had just met. “I am very sorry, My Lord, but that does not make you a murderer and you certainly can not be found guilty for the crime. If you were, so would many who walk among us.” He seemed to relax, and even smiled a little. “The Gods can be cruel. They are to blame for taking your mother from you, you did nothing wrong.”

“The Lannisters do not believe in the God's divinity.” Tyrion said with a smirk. “There are ones in my family who believe they are Gods in their own right.”

Her mind flashed to his brother, Jaime, and his reaction to her. He was just as arrogant as she feared he would be. His expression while holding her hand was burned in her brain. A hateful sneer, one she had seen many times before, on his perfect lips. His deep green eyes cutting her down for being unworthy. Yes, she could believe he thought himself a God. He probably had people tell him so on a daily basis. Women inflated his ego with compliments and fawning. Brienne made a mental note to stay away from him. She did not care if he was beautiful to look upon. He was cruel in his judgments.

“Believing one is a God does not make it so,” she said. Her voice was harsher with her anger and embarrassment. “It only shows one to be a fool.”

Tyrion laughed. “And you claimed to have lost your wits.” She blushed. “My Lady, I feel it necessary to inform you that words are like weapons. Knowing how to use them, which my family does, can make life both easier and more difficult.”

“I prefer steel to words,” she admitted.

His eyes widened, “As does Jaime.” That made her bristle, for she did not want to be anything like that man. “He finds a sword easier to wield than a thought. I do not mean that he is not smart, just that he finds metal more pleasing.”

“I have seen him fight,” she acknowledged. “He is quite good.”

Tyrion smirked. “Only good.”

She shrugged. “I do not think he was challenged so I can not give him higher marks than that. The knight I saw him fight was younger and more inexperienced than he was.”

“Oh, Lady Brienne,” Tyrion chuckled gleefully. “Please do tell him that. It would be rather entertaining to see him bluster at hearing he is merely _good_.”

“I do not think I will be seeking your brother out anytime soon, My Lord.”

“And why is that,” he asked. His expression still delighted. “Does he not please you? I would say, you are the first woman to feel that way. He has charmed many. Including our sweet sister.”

She thought that last statement was odd, but decided not to comment. She did not know this family and could already sense some things were not as they appear. It was best to tread carefully whenever possible. She focused on his previous remark instead.

“I am sure your brother is...” she paused, searching for the right word. Her mind was stubbornly blank of phrases which were not biting. Brienne licked her lips and settled on, “a fine person.” She almost choked on the words, but continued as if the bitter taste did not coat her tongue. “I just do not know him and he is not my intended, so I do not feel as if I need to.”

“He will be your good brother,” he reminded her.

“Yes, and so will the King,” she responded. “I do not believe I will be close with him either.”

“Fair point,” he nodded. He looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to hang low in the horizon. “The night will soon be upon us and I fear our absence has delayed supper. We should probably get back. My sweet sister is arriving with the King, so you will have a chance to meet both before we retire for the night.” He jumped down and held his hand out to her. “My Lady.”

She accepted his hand and together they walked back to Casterly Rock with Septa Roelle shadowing their every step.

////

Cersei eyed her soon-to-be good sister with a smirk. Her father could not have found a more perfect beast for her monster of a brother. She held her goblet of wine, leaning back against her chair. The ugly girl barely touched her food, her blue eyes jumping from Lannister to Lannister. She sipped her drink, letting the wine settle on her tongue for a second before swallowing. Placing the goblet on the table in front of her, Cersei smiled at Lady Brienne.

“Tell me, Lady Brienne,” the young girl's eyes widened as they came back to hers. A deep, unattractive blush flooded her face. “What is your island like? I fear I do not know much about minor keeps. Tarth is such a small place, am I correct?”

The blush darkened at the slight to her home. Lady Brienne straightened her spine and swallowed. Cersei watched the movement. She so enjoyed watching lesser people squirm. Someone of lower birth should not be part of their pack, but since this wretched beast was for Tyrion, Cersei would make an exception. He only deserved as much.

“Tarth is quite beautiful, Your Grace,” her voice was muted. Cersei frowned. Muted, but not shaking with nerves. “The beaches are some of the softest in all the seven kingdoms and we have many fields of wildflowers. I do think you would enjoy this _minor keep_ very much.”

“Yes,” Tywin said. “Cersei will have to tour your home one of these days, so she will know of what she speaks.”

Lord Selwyn cleared his throat and she could feel Tywin's disapproving look settle on her. Cersei grabbed her goblet again. Why her father would be angry at _her_, when Lady Brienne did not comprehend her place, baffled her. Jaime touched her thigh under the table and she had to fight to suppress a shiver. The homely woman did not look her way again. Cersei narrowed her eyes.

The rest of supper was spent sharing details of the wedding which was to take place in five moon turns. Cersei resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could not believe this beast would be her good sister. The lackwit was perfect for Tyrion, but as the night grew long, Cersei realized that she would be stuck with her as well. As if Robert was not bad enough. All the dinner's party rose as the servants began to clear the table. Selwyn and Brienne spoke quickly with Tyrion as Robert pulled Tywin aside, most likely to discuss tonight full moon, leaving Cersei with Jaime.

She stood next to her twin, “She truly is hideous.” Jaime looked at her. “Two monsters, one too tall, the other too small. What will their kids be like?”

Jaime shrugged. “We shall see, I suppose.” He turned his gaze toward Brienne and Cersei watched his eyes as they traveled over their brother's betrothed. She glared at him. “You should be nicer though. Father wants this union and will be cross if you make her, or her father, rethink the marriage.”

“Please spare me,” she waved her hand. “You know that those two would never break a contract with father... if they have any sense, which I grant you she seems to have very little. I do not understand why he is pushing this beast on us. She is not of our kind, we should not mix with common people.”

His expression stayed neutral but there was a subtle flash. “Just because she is not a werewolf, does not make her less than us. Besides it is not as if she can not be turned- which will have to happen when she gives birth to his cubs.”

“Many have died after receiving the bite.”

“Cersei...” Jaime warned, a subtle deepness to his voice. “Why are you making such a fuss over this? She is nothing to you. You do not care for Tyrion, so what has you so angry?”

“I smell her on you, dear brother,” she hissed. “You have her scent.”

“We should all have her scent.” He replied patiently. “Father introduced us to her this afternoon. You carry her scent as well. This is hardly a reason to be acting as you are.”

She grimaced at the thought of smelling like _Lady Brienne_. Smoothing out her features, Cersei pulled him into an alcove away from prying eyes. “I have not had my moon's blood in four turns.”

Jaime's eyes narrowed and she could feel his anger. This could not be his babe as they have not seen each other in nearly six moons. “So Robert finally planted his seed in you. Father will be so proud.”

“I do not want his cub,” she glared at him. “I want yours! This is a cruel jape. He came to me drunk, Jaime. I did not want him, I only want you... He is such a strong man before the first moon and I could do nothing.”

“Does he know?” Her brother's anger at the idea of her being taken forcibly boiled at the surface. She could sense his rage, smell it in the air and it filled her with twisted joy. He had always been clear on his feelings about rapists.

“Yes,” she admitted, her lip trembling. “He found me passed out one evening and in a moment of caring, took me to the maester. Pycelle told me the news while he stood at my side. I am sure Robert is telling father now.”

He took her hand in his and lowered his voice to barely a whisper, “We will have tonight together, sweet sister, and then we will have to come up with a plan.”

She hid her smile behind a curtain of blonde curls, wiping at dry eyes. She knew she could count on her brother to help her. Cersei wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He would always do as she wished. His love for her made him perfect in every way.

////

Brienne awoke to the sounds of howling in the distance. She rose from her bed, grabbing the robe at the foot and went to the window in her chamber. Flicking the latch, she looked out at the dense forest line which was facing her chambers. Her eyes caught sight of the biggest wolf she had ever seen.

The animal was breathtakingly gorgeous. Brienne leaned out the window to get a better look. The wolf's golden fur rippled in the gentle breeze. The moon bathed the creature with a heavenly light. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hands closed tightly around the windowsill. The smooth stone was biting into the flesh of her palm.

The wolf turned its head in her direction. Intense green eyes met hers. Her breath caught in her chest. They seemed to recognize her. She swallowed, backing away from the window. Two more wolves came to stand near the golden one. A shorter wolf, with light fur and patches of black, followed by another with the same golden fur as the first, only it was slightly smaller in size. Brienne quickly closed the window and climbed back in the bed.

The green eyes of the wolf followed her into sleep. Her dreams were filled with her running through the woods as a wolf watched her. His golden fur was waving in the wind, as the beautiful animal waited for her to join him.

////


	2. Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Brienne woke up early the next morning, still thinking about the wolf with jade eyes that she saw in the moonlight. She had never seen a creature like that; Tarth held many treasures but the wildlife was tame. Nothing came close to that magnificent beast she saw._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support! All the kudos and comments give me fuel to continue. Thank you again. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know...
> 
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> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, merrymaya, who constantly pushes me to be better. And for the beautiful banners
> 
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> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work. I absolutely adore it!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/dateposted/)

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Brienne woke up early the next morning, still thinking about the wolf with jade eyes that she saw in the moonlight. She had never seen a creature like that; Tarth held many treasures but the wildlife was tame. Nothing came close to that magnificent beast she saw. Closing her eyes she could imagine how soft the golden fur would be under her palm, about how strong and powerful the body would be if she were to reach out and touch. Her heart raced and her mind wandered. She wished she could be as free as that animal was. Run through the land without a care and explore as she wanted to. It would be a welcomed change from her life of duty. She sighed. At least Tyrion seemed like a wonderful man.

She gnawed at her bottom lip. She did not expect to fall in love with her betrothed upon first sight. It was an arranged marriage, built on mutual need and nothing more. Still, it would have been nice to feel a fluttering in her stomach or a tingle in her heart. Tyrion, while kind and witty, did not make her insides quiver. But she would be happy with him... or at least not miserable. They did not seem to have much in common, other than their unfortunate looks, but she still felt like their marriage could be a good one. Brienne believed that he would never try to curb her desires. He did not seem fazed by her comment about preferring steel to words. It put her mind at ease... at least a little.

What did not put her at ease was the fact that, while Tyrion did not cause her heart to jump, his brother unfortunately did. Jaime would never look twice in her direction, had proved that by the way he acted when they first met, but it did not stop her mind from reliving the feeling of his hand against hers. The rough palm fit hers well. How her skin had tingled a little after he had clasped her hand in his. It had caused her head to rush in a way she had never felt before. And even though she loathed to admit it, she could not quite get him out of her mind. After they had retired for the night, his memory had stayed with her. No matter how hard she had tried to push him from her thoughts. He was as beautiful as many had said. Physical perfection, the Golden lion of his house sigil, and she was not immune to it. And that made her angry with herself. 

She rolled over onto her stomach on the bed and smothered her face with her pillow. It ultimately didn't change anything. Because even if he was comely to look upon, he was also arrogant, she reminded herself. The Lannister twins were judgmental and looked down upon her for her lower station, for her ugly looks. Their matching eyes had watched her every move at the feast. It had been so distressing, that she could barely eat. Cersei did not cover her reaction to Brienne in the slightest. From the moment they had met, the older blonde's disgust and annoyance with her had been obvious. It confused her greatly. She did not know what she had done to offend the Queen, but she refused to cower down. Brienne was confident she could be respectful while still being proud of where she came from.

She rolled onto her back again and shut her eyes tightly. She could make it a point to avoid them. Or at least she could _try_. The Queen and King would not be here long, a sennight at most. _I can last that long..._ she hoped.

She rested her arm over her stomach as it let out a sound of hunger. She was not sure if they were to break their fast together, it would not be wise to overstep her boundaries with Tywin, but maybe she could sneak a small morsel from the kitchens. Brienne got out of bed and walked to her dressing cabinet. The servants had been kind enough to put most of her belongings away so she could easily find what she needed. Standing there, she bit her bottom lip in thought. She knew it would be expected of her to wear one of her dresses, but she wanted nothing more than to throw them into the hearth and slide on a pair of leather breeches. 

Sighing once more, she pulled out a simple blue dress from the cabinet and set about getting ready for the day. She began washing herself in the small basin the servants had left for her with a chunk rose soap. Brienne wrinkled her nose a little. The scent was rather strong and she didn't much care for it, it reminded her of Cersei's heavy floral perfume. Brienne preferred lighter fragrances. Ones that didn't invade the senses in such a powerful way. She would have to go into town and see if she could find one more suited to her taste. 

Honestly, she hoped to explore this strange place she found herself in and wanted to do it when no one else was around. She knew she would be watched closely. It was only right. She was to marry _into_ this family and she was not foolish enough to think that Tywin would not make sure she knew that, for now at least, she was not a Lannister. Her place, in this relationship, was tentative at best. Her father had let her know that before they parted for sleep. 

_“My little Sweet Star,” he had said as he touched her face. “This union is not final until you and Lord Tyrion say your vows. Lord Tywin is a powerful man and can decide to break this contract if he so chooses and there is very little I can do. I know I am placing much on your shoulders, but my sweet star, you are holding Tarth's future in your hands. Do you understand?”_

_“Yes, father,” she had said with some sorrow for the fate ahead of her. And she did understand her duty. There were many people, her people, who were depending on this marriage being a successful one. “I understand.”_

Brienne stopped in front of the looking glass in the corner of her chamber. Her eyes narrowed at her reflection. Her hair was hanging limply across her shoulders and down her back, long tresses that simply fell without curl or life. She had never been one to care about elegant hairstyles. A simple braid or knot was all she could accomplish on her own... actually it was all most could accomplish. Her hair was bland and rarely wanted to be sculpted into anything extravagant. Simplistic style fit her better anyway. She quickly twirled her hair up and pinned it in place. Several stubborn strands slipped out to frame her face. She tucked them behind her ears and exited her bedchamber quietly. 

The halls of the castle were still and barely any sounds could be heard, except for the few servants milling about preparing for the day. She smiled at the few she passed on her way, stopping one or two to make she was heading in the right direction. The last thing she wanted to do was get lost in the labyrinth that was Casterly Rock. Stopping by the kitchens, she plucked a roll from the tray and quickly left before anyone could say anything to her. Chewing quickly, she exited the castle with great relief. She looked around her, half expecting Septa Roelle to be standing there waiting to drag her back into the opulent home. 

Descending the steps, she headed straight for the armory. She looked around the yard and licked her lips. Her hand flexed, her palm itched for a blade. She had not been allowed to practice in so long that her entire body tingled with want. She knew she was inviting trouble. If she got caught it would be worrisome for all involved, especially if she was seen by Septa Roelle or Lord Tywin. Septa Roelle would not hesitate to express her displeasure to her father and Tywin... well, he could end the betrothal and that would endanger Tarth...

Her mind warred with her heart. Fighting was one of the only things she believed herself good at. She would never sew the perfect stitch or feel comfortable hosting a ball for diplomats. But here, in the dirt and the sun, she could _shine_. Ser Goodwin had been so impressed with her natural gift that, even though he had not wanted to at first, he had taken her under his tutelage. She had learned how to wait patiently for an opening. How to conserve her strength, be aware of the opportunities when they appeared. To never engage first. 

_Always watch!_ He had instructed. _Your adversary will always show his weaknesses and his strengths to you if you are mindful._

She took those lessons with her and used them in everything she did. It was how she interacted with the world. Watch, hold back when necessary, advance when given the chance or no choice. Taking a deep breath, she looked behind her one last time, then moved to the door. If it was unlocked the Gods were good, if not she would have to find another way to practice. 

The door gave quickly and she could not stop the grin from spreading across her face. She entered the darkened room and glanced at the swords on the wall. She took one down and tested the weight in her hand. It wasn't perfect, but it was a blade and she was desperate to swing one again. She exited the armory and stood in the yard. Her eyes went to a dummy in the corner, filled with straw and walked over to it with determination. She straightened her shoulders and swung, the sound of the metal cutting through the air was like a lover's song and she grinned.

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Jaime walked purposefully through the halls of the castle. He was annoyed. His night had not gone as planned. He rolled his shoulders. Tension was making them tight. He did not know what happened. Everything was set. They met in their usual spot and were getting ready to fuck when he found himself distracted by her change in scent. The entire time he was acutely aware of the difference. She had never been with a cub before when they were together. He had no idea that it would change his reaction to her.

They still had sex, his lust for her, while diminished, was still there. It just wasn't what he had anticipated. He knew Cersei was less than thrilled by their union as well. Normally they would romp in the cool stream together for hours after fucking. It was a measure taken to remove the scent and to just be wolves. Then they would run through the woods, chasing and rolling in the grass, returning to the water once more. The final step was to part ways, Cersei would go to a spot where she had stashed some of Roberts tunics and roll upon them to cover herself in the King's fragrance. While he would meet up with the rest of the pack, taking time to roll around with them to distract from what his sweet sister and he had been doing. 

The night before, there was no frolicking. There was no chasing and playing. It was fucking and that was all. His body was sated for sure, but he was left feeling unsatisfied. Cersei had left him as soon as the moon had hidden behind the mountains and angrily refused to look at him. Tyrion said nothing about what had happened, just glanced his way with confusion on his face. Jaime pointedly annoyed with the rest of his family, had called for the servants to ready a bath for him in the privacy of his own bedchamber.

Another disturbance to him was Brienne of Tarth. His lips curled just thinking about the young woman betrothed to his brother. She had seen them the night before as the three had entered the woods. His wolf had smelled her soft scent on the air and turned to see her standing in her robe. Her long blonde hair had blown gently in the late night breeze, filling his nostrils with her aroma. It reminded him of his reaction to her when they had first met. The light sweetness mixed with sea breeze and salt messed with his head. Made him feel something he could not name. The wolf sharing his body enjoyed the natural tang of it in the air. Her eyes, the bluest of blue, had been locked in his mind, even while he ran with his sister, his lover. Even now as he pushed so hard to remove her, she sat quietly in his thoughts. 

And he hated it. It was a nuisance he did not need in his life. His brother should be the one thinking about the ugly woman with the large teeth, strong body and devastating eyes. He threw open the castle doors with more force than was necessary. His mind focused on getting to the practice yard. He needed time alone to work out his frustrations. His muscles yearned to be used and his mind needed to be free. 

As he got closer to the enclosed area where the practice yard resided, he heard the sound of a woman grunting, a sword whistling through the air and the slap of the blunted blade hitting the dummy. He sniffed at the air and pulled a face. He walked into the yard and saw her. She swung the sword with controlled moves, her dress swinging around her legs as she spun. Brienne's skin glistened with sweat, her mouth was parted, her pink tongue coming out to wet her lips. He felt his blood rush hard through his veins.

She ducked as an invisible blow came and she stepped to the left, knocking the hilt of the sword into what would have been the ribs of her opponent. Her moves were smooth and quick when needed. He narrowed his gaze as she performed a series of fast parries into the dummy. Jaime loathed to admit it, but she was good. Better than good. Brienne stood back and put the tip of the blade into the ground. Her chest was moving up and down and his eyes fell to her breasts... or where her breasts would be if she had any to speak of. Beads of sweat slid down her neck and pooled in the hollow of her collarbone. He licked his lips, tasting the saltiness on the air. 

Her back straightened and she turned to face him. Her sapphire eyes were bright with excitement, the redness of her cheeks not as unflattering to him as it had been before. This was not from bashfulness, this was from physical extortion. His mind conjured up her getting that look from other, more enjoyable ways. The thought was fleeting and distressing. He strolled into the yard and a new scent assaulted his nose. It was like poison on her skin. Heavy and overwhelming. It made him want to gag and he growled low in his throat. 

She looked him in the eyes as his lips parted almost angrily. “What have you done?”

“Wha-” she startled. Her open expression shutting quicker than a door on a windy day. She frowned at him. “I have not a clue what you are talking about, My Lord.” 

He leaned in, his nose twitching. She backed away, placing the tourney sword between them. Her large eyes grew wider. “You smell.” He hissed between his teeth at her. The wolf beneath his skin, bent low snarling. She jerked at his words. Her mouth tightened and she gripped the sword harder. He saw her knuckles turn white from holding on so roughly. He felt the anger rolling off of her in crimson waves. “So I am going to ask again, what have you done?”

She grimaced at him, her eyes a pair of blue flames. “You have quite a mouth for a man who is supposed to be a knight. I guess you missed the part about being gallant, My Lord.” 

He growled deep in his throat again. Her attitude was grating to him. The toxic smell of her skin was getting to him as well. He longed for the light natural fragrance that tormented him the night before. And that made his blood boil. How dare this _woman_ invade his thoughts unbidden! Jaime clenched his fists at his sides, his mind fogging. Anger burned him inside and out. “And you, My Lady, do not know your place.”

“_My_ place,” she snapped. “Is away from _you_.” She pushed the sword into his chest, causing him to grunt at the unexpected force. “I shall go there swiftly as to remind us both of that fact. Good day, My Lord.”

He watched her leave with narrowed eyes. Her back was arrow straight and her head was held high. The knot at the base of her skull had loosened and her dull flaxen locks fell down her back. He continued to follow her with his eyes until she disappeared from view. The air around him still had the strange scent of her skin in it and he tried hard to not breathe too deeply. Jaime shook his head. He needed to swing his sword now more than ever... but with the way his blood was still rushing through his veins at his meeting with Lady Brienne, he was not exactly sure which of his swords needed the most attention. The one currently in his hand or the one residing in his breeches. 

He took a moment to calm his racing, pounding heart. It would do no good to rise to the anger he felt: at her for smelling so different, at him for noticing and at his body for reacting to her presence. It really made no logical sense. He had been around many women and never once had his wolf been so aware of one. He would be thrice damned if he let somebody the likes of Brienne of Tarth get under his skin. Jaime twirled the practice blade, stalking closer to the figure in the corner. He was even more primed for a fight than before and he pummeled the dummy.

The song of steel sang loudly in his veins. The swoosh of the blade through the warm morning air made him grin maniacally. This was what he needed. Straw split on the ground at his feet as he thrust the dull sword into the mock human. An imitation of his opponent's blood seeping to the dirt. Sweat fell into his eyes from the long strands of his hair. He blew them back, wiped his brow and began again. He took out all of his frustrations, all of his pent of rage on the dummy, releasing animalistic yells with each move. 

By the time he felt the loosening in his muscles, he was exhausted, but he also felt alive. The brutal sport of swordplay always brought him back to himself. He placed the blade back where Brienne had taken it and started walking toward the keep. Others would be waking and as a pack, as a family, they would break their fast. He could only hope Lady Brienne would not be there, but he was not foolish enough to believe it would be true.

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Her cheeks were still burning from embarrassment and anger when she entered the castle. That pompous dorbel! Brienne wanted to punch him, square in the nose, for his words and cruel attitude. Jaime Lannister was even worse than she believed him to be. How was she ever going to be around him? He had said she smelled with such contempt! As if her sweating was a personal affront to his very being. Her blood was boiling and she rushed to her chambers. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she quickly removed her dress and threw it down on the stone floor, followed swiftly by her smallclothes. Tears gathered in her eyes and she hunched in on herself.

Many insults had carelessly been hurled her way, barbed words meant to rip her apart and shred her defenses, but never had she been accused of reeking. Of having such an odor it was offensive. It was a new worry to add to all the others. A single tear slipped from her eyes and she wiped at it viciously. He did not deserve her tears. He did not warrant her sadness or anger. 

She straightened her spine and walked- unclothed- over to the basin, she cupped her hands and dipped them into the cool water. Splashing her face and body to remove the sweat and tears, Brienne grabbed the chunk of rose soap. Her nose wrinkled up again. This would not do for long. It was kind of the servants to leave it so she could wash in peace when she so desired- without the bother of a tub, but the fragrance... She lathered the bar and swiped it along her body in quick, short movements. 

After she quickly dried off with some cloth placed on the table next to the basin, she dressed again. This time she comprised with herself and wore a split skirt. She knew better than to press her luck by wearing pants in the presence of Tywin, but maybe she could get away with this... Shrugging to herself, she laced up her tunic and headed back down the stairs.

As she made her way to the dining area, she heard whispering coming from behind a cracked door. Her curiosity got the better of her and she looked through the opening. Tyrion stood there with a young maid. Her brown hair was hanging in waves down her back and she was leaning in close to the dwarf. Tyrion looked upset. His mismatched eyes were downcast. Brienne was about to leave. She knew an imitate moment when she saw one. Tyrion's head snapped up and his piercing gaze fell upon her. His mouth shut in a firm line and Brienne knew leaving now would not be an option. She pressed against the door and entered.

Her betrothed moved in front of the other woman as if to protect her. _He wishes to protect a woman from _me_?_ Brienne was hurt but understood the reasoning behind it. After she smiled at the other female, she noticed Tyrion's shoulders release some of the tension. 

“Lady Brienne,” he said, bowing to her.

“Lord Tyrion,” she responded, her eyes sliding back to the other woman. She stepped forward. “Good day,” she greeted. The brunette's expression was wild. Her brown eyes looked large on her face and fear was evident in the way she held herself. Brienne felt for her. She had heard of nobles mistreating their servants, but her father had taught her that everyone had a purpose in life. No one was better than anyone else. _Starlight, all people can be kings and all people can be peasants. One strike of a blade can take the richest man's gold and one act of heroism can make the poorest man wealthy. Do not forget that while we have a castle now, it was not always the way. Treat all with respect._ It was a lesson she held dear. She took another step toward the woman. “You need not fear punishment from me. Please, what is your name?”

Tyrion smiled at her and then looked at the brunette, nodding. “Her name is Tysha.” He swayed closer to the servant. His eyes filling with emotion. “She is a handmaid in the castle.” What he did not say, but it was clear to Brienne, was that she was also someone he loved. 

“It is lovely to meet you, Tysha.” Brienne said with sincerity. She turned to face Tyrion. “It seems we have much to discuss.” He nodded and turned to Tysha, reaching out to brush his hand against hers. It was a light caress and yet, Brienne could feel the emotion behind it. It hurt her heart to see the way they longed to be in each other's arms. Tysha turned to go when Brienne called out to her, “Are you a personal handmaid to Queen Cersei or any of the Lannisters?”

Tysha looked much like a deer caught in the sights of a hunter. She shook her head, “I'm not, M'lady. I just help where needed.”

“I do not know much about the Westerlands and could use someone to help me understand this strange place,” she laughed to herself. “I am also woefully unprepared for life at Casterly Rock. It would do me a great honor if you would be my personal handmaid.”

“M'Lady,” she gasped. “I am not...” Her eyes moved to Tyrion's, tears flooded the rims. “Ya can not want me... surely ya would want someone else.”

“No,” Brienne shook her head. “I believe you are just who I am in need of. Please do consider it.”

“Yes, M'Lady,” her face lit with a smile. “Whatever you need.” She curtsied and left the two intended alone, closing the door behind her.

“That was a kindness not many would show,” Tyrion said, his voice steady and his eyes watchful. “You know what you walked in on, do you not?”

“I do,” Brienne walked around him and stood by the window. “I know what this marriage between us is to be. It is not one of love, it is one of need.” She looked at him. “You love her.”

“Yes, Lady Brienne,” his tone turned sorrowful. “We have always loved each other. But the fates have made it so we can only love at a distance.”

“I am most sorry, Lord Tyrion,” she took a seat in a chair by the window. “Does anyone know of your feelings for Tysha?”

He came to sit across from her and sighed. “No,” he shook his head. “We try not to spend much time alone. Only recently I have let my feelings for her be known. Once our betrothal was announced to me, I went to her and expressed my sadness at never knowing how she felt in my arms. She responded in kind. It is a mess that will never be resolved. I am to be your Lord husband and she will always be considered by my father to be of the wrong ilk.”

Brienne pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying the flesh. “I will never love you, I am afraid.” He looked at her. “And you will never love me.” Tyrion sighed deeply, but nodded. “There is very little joy to be had in this world. I do not want you to lose someone who brings you some.”

“What options do I have,” he replied with frustration. “We are to be wed and my father would never allow Tysha to stay if I stood against that. He would bring harm to her. I know this. I can not let that happen.”

“I do not want to wed you, Lord Tyrion,” Brienne folded her hands together in her lap. “I am doing it for the people of my island. I wanted to have adventures and be free. I am not made for Court. It is not a place I belong to. You wish to be with another... maybe this will work for both of us.” Tyrion raised his brow at her. “I could cover for you so you can be together and you can cover for me while I explore. She could be our chaperone in the eyes of the world, but in reality I will be one for you.” 

“Lady Brienne,” he warned. “This is not a game. We are not players in a mummer's song. If we are found out, we would not be the ones to pay the price. You are too valuable to my father and I, even if he wishes it was not so, am his son. We could be banished or humiliated, but she,” he pointed to the door that Tysha had walked through. “She would suffer.”

Brienne sat back, her eyes growing wide, “You really believe your father so cruel as to cause that kind of pain to an innocent?”

“He is feared for a reason, Lady Brienne,” Tyrion cautioned. “Have you never heard of how he crushed the House of Reynes? These were nobles my Lady and he had not a drop of sympathy for them. He flooded their castle and not a soul was heard. The song does not lie.” He rubbed at his forehead. “My father is just to those he believes have earned that, but to cross him is not wise.” Brienne's insides were cold. What type of family was she betrothed to? The contrast between their fathers was never more apparent than at this moment. She could never see her father as Tyrion described his. Selwyn would never do as Tywin would. She felt a weight fall on her shoulders that had not been there before. Tyrion leaned forward. “Please, Lady Brienne, do not fear what will not come. My father will not harm you. I just want to be honest.”

“The way you speak,” she licked her lips. “It seems quite hopeless.” Her mind worked over the problem. “There must be a way. I do think your father would be happy to see us come together and we would need someone to watch us, as so we do not fall into impropriety... Tysha would be a good choice, as I did not lie about wanting her to be my handmaid. I wish for that and it would remove Septa Roelle from my vision.”

Tyrion laughed for the first time, “You do not like your Septa?”

Brienne pulled a face. “I do not.” Her fingers tightened together. “She is not a kind woman and I do not wish to be around her. As I said, we can help each other.”

“I want horribly to believe this could work,” her betrothed said, haltingly. “I just worry.”

“And I understand your concern,” she admitted. “The picture you have painted of your father is not a forgiving one, but I have faith we can pull this off. We will be wed in five moons time and then we will get a keep of our own, away from this castle... it could be the perfect solution to a problem not of our making.” She looked at the now closed door. “We will have to be more careful, My Lord. I was able to find you with her quite easily, had it been anyone else...”

He nodded, “I was distracted, I admit. I should have been more mindful of my place. I am most relieved that it was you, My Lady who happened upon us.”

She moistened her lips, “All would have been explained by it being a man and his betrothed meeting with a chaperone. It could work, I trust that.”

Tyrion's expression was a mixture of hope and skepticism, but he did not say no again. Details would need to be worked out, but for the first time, Brienne could see light at the end of this cave. She could see her dreams start to take shape once more. She would get her adventures and her island would get their salvation.

+-+-+-+

Jaime knew which look would be in her jade eyes when he saw her again. Cersei walked toward him, her fists tight at her side. The tension between them was different. It did not hold the passion or promise of a night spent together. He braced himself for what was to come. She stopped in front of him, her eyes narrowing. Her lips pulled in a sneer. Her left hand pressed hard against his cheek.

“Dear brother,” her voice did not give away her real emotions. She was practiced. From years at Court. From years with Tywin. She knew how to be cold and dismissive, but also how to be biting with her words. “I see you have been training. Did you have a partner?” She didn't wait for his answer. “You might as well have rolled on her. Or maybe you did.”

“Cersei, you are not making sense,” he really did not want to deal with this. He was feeling good after his session with the dummy and now the tightness was returning. “I was merely in the practice yard. No one was with me.”

“Then why,” she growled. “Do you smell of Lady Brienne?” She leaned in close, her nose almost against his chest. “It is not the same, but she is there. I can not believe you would leave me as you did last night to find her. Our scents should not mix. It is disgusting and I can not believe you would be so foolish as to try.”

He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her into a darkened room. She yanked free and pressed against the wall. He moved into her. His control was hanging by a thread. “I did not go find her. I want nothing to do with the wench. She is only here as Tyrion's betrothed.” His body was firm and she yielded very little, but her lips parted enough to show her interest. “I did run into her at the yard, but naught happened. How can you believe I would want one such as her? Have I ever strayed from your bed, sweet sister?” His lips curled. “Can you say the same?” 

Her gaze turned sharp in the darkness. “I have only loved you.”

“But that is not true,” he whispered in her ear. “I know that your heart has raced for another. Do not play me for a fool, Cersei. I remembered how you used to look at Rhaegar. You might never have touched another but you have wanted. I have not.”

She was quiet. Her lack of response more than enough to prove his point. It was not kind to bring up her shattered crush on the abdicated Prince, but he was not in a giving mood. His nerves were fraying more and more at the notion that he could possibly be attracted to Lady Brienne. It was mad... he paused. His mind returned to the moment in the yard where his body _did_ react. But that had to be latent frustration over Cersei, he rationalized. There was no way it could have been because he felt more than annoyance for the tall blonde. 

He stepped away from her and ran his hand through his long hair. “I do not begrudge you your fancies. We were but children when you met him and he was a prince, but do not act as if I have ever been anything less than faithful. Cersei, sweet sister, we have always been and we will always be. Lady Brienne will leave after her wedding to our brother and we will only have cross paths when father will impose her presence upon us.”

Cersei straightened her skirts, “Gods be good that will not be something we have to endure much. This week alone will test my patience.” Her eyes locked with his. “As I am sure it will test yours.”

There was still something in the air when they exited the room. The unease between them was not over. He knew it, he felt it. He walked to his chambers and sat down on his mattress. He thought over her last words to him. Lady Brienne _did_ test his patience. How was he to survive five moon turns with her in his house, he knew not. 

He closed his eyes and fell back against the pillows. Opening them back up, he stared at the ceiling. It would not be for long. They would probably not cross paths much. She would be busy with her wedding and all the pomp and circumstance that came with being a bride. This morn was but a cruel twist of fate. Nothing more. Soon, Brienne of Tarth would be his brother's nuisance and Jaime would never have to see those incredible blue eyes again. His stomach rolled and growled in hunger. It was time to gather for their meal. He could smell the delicious aromas whiffing from the kitchens. 

The hall was full by the time he arrived. His gaze swept over the members of his family, taking notice of two people missing. Tyrion and Brienne had not arrived yet. He took his regular seat next to Cersei and grabbed the pitcher of honeyed wine, filling his goblet. Robert was already deep in his cups. His cheeks were red and his voice was even more boisterous than usual. Cersei tried to hide her anger at him with a smile which did not reach her eyes.

So he was right, the hostility between them was not gone. He sighed, taking a large gulp of the sweet drink. A headache was forming behind his eyes. This day was turning out to be a horrible one. Lord Selwyn sat next to his father. Their heads together in conversation. Tywin glanced his way. The alpha's eyes flashed. He smelt something. He knew something. Jaime felt uncomfortable with the stare. Fortunately, Tywin turned back to Selwyn when the other man spoke again.

Jaime shifted in his seat. He didn't know what his father was aware of. He hoped it was not about what happened between him and Cersei. He did not believe that the case, but he was not sure and Tywin would not let on until he was ready. And that was usually when Jaime was not. He filled his plate with food to sate his appetite.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps. One set light, the steps of a fighter. One set heavier, the steps of a man with pain. Jaime swallowed as they appeared at the entrance. Tyrion's arm was around Brienne's and her face was lit with a large smile. She leaned down and Tyrion whispered something in her ear. Jaime strained to hear, but could not. The loudness of the pack and the softness of Tyrion's voice made it impossible, but whatever it was made Lady Brienne laugh. Her laugh was like her voice, calming to him. It was full-bodied and musical. Jaime growled deep in his throat. The wolf under his skin did not. The golden creature liked the sound.

The intended couple moved more deeply into the room and Jaime was assaulted with her scent again. He coughed. The smell! Did she learn nothing from their earlier conversation? How could his brother be so close? How could he not want to run? Jaime took another gulp of wine, hoping to dull his senses. Tyrion held out her chair and she sat across from Jaime. 

She looked up and glared at him. Her cheeks started to turn red again. Anger rushing through her large body. She placed her napkin on her lap and a new wave of her scent hit him full force. He tried to hold his tongue but he could not. This toxic fragrance was too much. His mind could not concentrate on anything but the stench. 

“I see,” he started, stabbing a potato with his fork and bringing it to his lips. “That you did nothing to fix the problem, Lady Brienne.”

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled in a false smile, “And neither did you, My Lord.”

“What has transpired between you?” Tyrion asked, clearly confused. Jaime felt like screaming. How could no one else be affected by the way this woman smelled? “Lady Brienne?”

She patted his hand. A small gesture, but one Jaime noticed. He lips pulled back. “It was nothing, Lord Tyrion. Your brother and I merely had a disagreement this morn.” Her eyes turned to Jaime. “He and I have reached an understanding now though.” Her tone was as sweet as honey but her eyes were like twin frozen lakes. “Have we not, My Lord?”

Jaime returned her cold gaze and smiled in a cutting way. “I do not know, Lady Brienne.” He took a piece of bacon from his plate to give him something to focus on. The meat was salty in his mouth and he chewed slowly. Her glare intensified as their verbal sparring continued. He swallowed. “You told me of your intentions and yet, did not follow through. The way I see it, we are in the same situation as when we started.”

The room grew quiet around them. Several sets of eyes watched the two blondes locked in a war. Brienne grabbed a roll from the pile in front of them. Her eyes never straying from his. “You are quite right, Ser Jaime.” The _Ser_ was said with exaggerated respect. He bared his teeth again. “I did tell you of my intentions and while I did not fully follow them this morn, it will be a priority from this moment on. I think we can both admit that it would be best for all.”

“You have the right of it, Lady Brienne.” He laughed. “I believe your idea is a sound one. Now let us all see if you can do it.”

For the first time since they started this twisted conversation, Brienne smiled truly. “Oh, My Lord,” she placed a piece of bread in her mouth. His eyes followed the movement of her tongue as it curled and collected the baked good. His blood rushed roughly through his veins. “I do not think that will be a problem. In fact, I would hasten to say it would be a pleasure.”

He gave her the last word. His mind was too muddled with her scent and the sight of her pink tongue. He finished off his goblet of wine as the sound of other conversations overruled the space again. He filled his glass as Brienne leaned in to talk with Tyrion. She nodded at what he was saying and her eyes never returned to Jaime's during the rest of the meal.

Jaime lost his appetite as Tyrion touched Brienne's arm and they laughed at some private joke. He felt as though he was going mad. He even forgot his sweet sister was at his side. The delicious food in front of him tasted like sand in his mouth and he glared down at his plate. Yes, it would be best if they stayed away from each other.

+-+-+-

Tywin sat back in his chair. His fingers laced together under his chin. He was rarely wrong, but he wondered if he may be, this time. The sparring had been interesting. Jaime's reaction to the Lady of Tarth was not what he expected. His son had never shown an interest in a woman, except for his twin, until now. The amount of emotions his son gave off was unexpected, to say the least, and Tywin was most intrigued. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Lord Selwyn sat before him nervously.

“I would like to apologize for that display,” the other man said, sounding confused. “I have never seen her act as such before.”

“Yes,” Tywin nodded. His face a mask of concentration. “It did seem to be a passionate response.” He moved his hands from his chin and folded them over his lap. “I can not accept your apology, Lord Selwyn.” The islander blanched. “For I believe it is I who owe you one.” Lord Selwyn sagged in his chair before straightening back up. “It was my son who started the confrontation. I shall speak with him at once about being more courteous.” 

The alpha plotted his next move. This could prove to be essential. Lady Brienne was becoming much more important than he realized, when he first came to Selwyn with the idea of uniting their houses. Tywin would wait and watch until he was sure.

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	3. Madness Taking Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaime sat in his father's solar, his leg bouncing nervously. He had not a clue as to why he was summoned to this meeting. Tywin did not give a reason, just told him to be there. And he knew better than to go against the Alpha. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took over my brain and this story has invaded my life. LOL. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a long one! Thank you to all the wonderful people that read, left kudos and/or left a comment. I love hearing from you. All of you make my day!
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to my beta: Merrymaya (who has just posted her first story! Check it out [ https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299276/chapters/48121996 ] ) for listening to me and helping me. You are the best even when you push me to my breaking point. LOL Also thanks for the dividers
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful Ro Nordmann for the gorgeous banner. It takes my breath away each time I look at it!
> 
> +-+-+-+

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/photostream/)  


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Jaime sat in his father's solar, his leg bouncing nervously. He had not a clue as to why he was summoned to this meeting. Tywin did not give a reason, just told him to be there. And he knew better than to go against the Alpha. It was just like his father to send for him but not be there himself. The act of dominance was one all the Lannister siblings knew about. Tywin knew how to make his children dance on a string. They were marionette dolls used for his bidding and amusement. 

It was a cynical way of looking at Tywin's pack, but it was a realistic one. His father would do what was best for the pack, no matter what it took. It was why Cersei was married off to Robert- Tywin got a foothold in King's Landing. It was why Tyrion was betrothed to Brienne- it gave the pack more power in the Stormlands. His father was a cunning man. Jaime feared what he would ask of him.

The door opened behind him and he stood to greet his father. Tywin spared him but a glance, nodding curtly in his direction. Both men sat down. Jaime was caught in his father's stare. The Alpha's lips were pursed, his hands clasped in front of him on the large wooden desk he sat behind. 

“What did you think you were accomplishing by that display at breakfast?” Jaime could not say he was surprised at the lack of preamble, but the question did cause him to pause. He did not know what he had done. Yes, the maid of Tarth and he had shared words, but he could not be blamed when she smelt as she did. It was offensive and caused him to snap. “She is a guest in this house. An _honored_ guest. Your brother's intended and you act like a beast sizing up his meal?”

Jaime felt small as he sat there. He should have known this would be the topic of conversation. That thrice-damned woman was ruining his life and he had known her but a day. He could not contain his desire to see her gone from Casterly Rock. The wedding could not come swiftly enough. Once she was gone, his life would return to how it had always been. He would be free of her dazzling eyes and full lips, her quick, biting wit. He would be free of the toxic scent that invaded his nostrils every day. Jaime wanted nothing more than to strip her down and wash the heavy smell from her creamy, freckled skin. 

The image of doing just that flooded his mind. He shifted in his chair at the clear picture of her wet and naked in his arms. Jaime pushed hard against the thought. What the hell was happening? Why did she enter his mind every fucking moment? He should be imagining Cersei, wet and wanting... His body cooled at the thought of his sweet sister. He was suddenly uncomfortable for a new reason. Why would his lover cool his blood, when one he despised heated it? Mayhaps he was becoming ill. He should speak with the maester... 

He looked at Tywin in the eyes, not an easy feat, and spoke the words he knew Tywin was expecting. “It will not happen again, father.”

“See that it doesn't.” He waited for his dismissal but it did not come. “You did not answer my question. What did you think you were accomplishing?”

“I did not think-”

“Yes, I believe we can both agree on that.” His father interrupted. Tywin leaned forward, his eyes flashing in the way only an Alpha's can. It was meant to call his pack to heel and it worked on Jaime quickly. “Lady Brienne is to be treated with respect. I demand you apologize to her and her father for your attitude.”

His skin prickled with annoyance. “She was not an innocent, father!” The flash of green again. Jaime simmered down, but he did not want to. It felt like he was pushing against an unseen wall. He was boxed in and there was nothing he could do but to bow to his father's will. He growled, “I will apologize.”

“Good.” Tywin sat back in his chair. “You are free to go.”

Jaime got up in a jerky motion. His body was rebelling against the promise he made to his father. He had no desire to seek out Brienne of Tarth. He had no desire to be in her presence at all, ever. He licked his lips as he descended the stairs. Passing an open window, he heard a musical sound. _Her_ laughter. He looked down at the scene below. Brienne was talking with a woman. He looked more closely and recognized the girl as Tysha- the one he saved at the age of six and ten. He had not known they knew each other. 

The two women stood close together. Brienne was talking animatedly as she walked toward the keep. The handmaid smiled, her amusement clear upon her face. Jaime was taken aback by the ease with which his brother's betrothed talked with the maid. It was not a clipped conversation between a noble and a handmaiden, it was a moment between two people who might be friends. 

As much as Jaime was not fond of the Maid of Tarth, he was impressed by her treatment of the servants. He felt a wave of sadness grip him as he watched the two women. He did not remember much about his mother, but he could recall how beloved she was by the workers of the keep. Most of his memories of her were warped and faded. She died when he was a child of nine, but he could still remember the way the light had seemed to fade from everyone in the Castle. The world had grown dark around him. It seemed to him that everyone felt her loss as much as the family did. 

It did not comfort him to compare the two- his mother and the woman that was pushing him to the brink. But he could not be unfair to either of them. Tysha was more relaxed than he had ever seen her. The handmaiden who had worked for his family for ten years had always seemed conscious that Cersei was not always kind. This did not seem to be the case with Brienne. He frowned. Why was he constantly comparing _Brienne of Tarth_ to his pack, his family? She was not one of them...

Not yet...

His brother walked up and stood at his side. Jaime turned to him and narrowed his eyes at the way Tyrion watched him. “What?” He all but growled.

“You seem not to like my intended much,” Tyrion said thoughtfully. “I can not understand why. What has she done to earn your ire?”

Jaime's body tensed and his lips curled in a sneer. “She has done enough.”

“That, dear brother, is not an answer.” The dwarf looked at Brienne and Tysha. “I have never seen her be anything but kind... except with you.” He let the comment hang between them. “It is a conundrum.”

Jaime paused. Was it just him? No, there must be others she was harsh with... he turned back to look out the window in time to see Tysha trip and Brienne catch her. She steadied the girl and looked concerned. Jaime strained to hear what she was saying.

“...have you eaten?” Brienne asked.

“I,” Tysha stopped and shook her head. “There is not much food and though the Lannisters have been most kind but it's frowned upon to take food from the kitchens without being allowed to. I don't want to make Lord Tywin upset. My Lord does try to bring me food when he can.”

Brienne frowned. “Well, that will not do. Come with me. I feel a bit peckish and could use a midday meal.” She took the servant's arm in hers. “The portions are much too generous for me, I would be honored if you would partake in what is brought.”

Jaime looked at his brother. The younger Lannister had the look of love on his face. Jaime's insides tightened. Tyrion falling in love with his intended was a good thing. He wanted his brother to have a marriage where he could be happy. He just did not understand why it bothered him so much. Maybe the maid of Tarth was not who he would like to bed- she was no Cersei- but Tyrion saw something in her.

He pushed down the bile rising in his throat. He really needed to see the maester. There was something wrong with him, that was obvious.

+-+-+-+

Brienne paused as she descended the stairs. Tywin stood at the bottom as if waiting for her. She looked quickly around for someone to save her. She had not been alone with the Lannister patriarch since she arrived and she was quite alright with that, to be honest. His presence was overwhelming. There was a power in the way he carried himself that intimidated her. It did not help that she could still hear Tyrion's warning in her head. He looked directly at her. His pale green eyes caught her blue ones and she knew there was no escape. Straightening her shoulders, and gathering as much courage as she could, she continued down toward the older man. At the bottom step, she curtsied. She recalled his reaction to her stumble in manners day before and had no desire to repeat the mistake. 

“Lord Tywin,” she said as she rose. “How are you this midday?”

His lips twitched and she couldn't tell if he was mildly annoyed with her lack of social grace or if he truly liked her. Somehow, she thought she would never know for sure with him. He was not one to give away his thoughts. He was not as transparent as Tyrion when speaking about Tysha, or Jaime when berating her for her smell, or even Cersei, who wore her pinched expression freely.

“I am quite well, Lady Brienne,” his voice was smooth and hard all at the same time. It was the voice of a man who knew he was in charge and embraced it. It was a voice that did not invite argument or rebuke. “I do hope you are finding Casterly Rock to be a welcoming home.”

Brienne knew this could be a trap and decided to take a diplomatic approach. “Yes, My Lord. I am enjoying my time with my betrothed. He is a brilliant man and I think we will be quite happy together.” His eyes glinted and she wondered if he heard the half-truth. She was enjoying her time with Tyrion. He was brilliant. And she did believe their marriage could be beneficial to both parties, but it would never make her truly happy. That would only come from a full union- one their union would never be. “I do have a request if you do not mind.” He nodded once, curtly. She took a deep breath. “I would love to see more of the Westerlands. Would you be so kind as to allow me a horse to explore?”

“There are a lot of dangerous places here,” he cautioned. “One should be mindful of all that surrounds them.” Brienne's eyebrows came together in confusion. She felt like he was speaking in riddles and she did not have the wherewithal to understand the meaning. “I think taking someone with you would be wise.” His green eyes glinted again. She was becoming aware of how much he hid behind his mask. Tywin Lannister was a master at this game and she was less than a novice. “My son perhaps?”

“Tyrion is quite busy going over the books, My Lord,” she responded. “I do not wish to disturb him.”

“Jaime then,” she tried hard to school her features. Her stomach dropped at his name. “He has a free afternoon I believe. Surely, now that he has made amends for his behavior, you and he will be on better footing.”

“I have not spoken to Lord Jaime since we all broke our fast,” Brienne really felt like she was out of her depth. This family confused her. There was something so different about them. “I could take my handmaiden with me.” She hoped that would ease his concerns and he would let her go without inviting Jaime. She was having such a  
nice day without his sneering, beautiful face. “She knows the woods and would know which parts are the safest.”

Tywin pursed his lips, “My son has not spoken to you?”

“No, My Lord,” she was getting nervous. Why does he want them to speak? Why did it matter if they never got along? She would be quite pleased to never be in the same room with him again. She was sure he felt the same, especially since she _offended_ him so. Her annoyance over him rose up again. “I do not want to bother him either, My Lord. I am sure he has more important duties requiring his attention besides giving me a tour of this land.”

“Nonsense!” Tywin exclaimed. “Jaime is not too busy for his soon-to-be good-sister. Besides, as I have mentioned, he needs to speak to you. Come,” he moved out of her way and she took the final step so they were on the same floor. “We shall find him now.”

Her muscles tensed and she felt like she needed to vomit. There was no way out now. He was determined. A servant rushed into the room just as they were turning. “Lord Tywin,” the older steward bowed as best he could. Brienne noticed how frail he appeared. His white hair was thin and his body was small. She had seen him around the castle and knew that he had worked for the Lannisters for many years faithfully.

“Yes,” Tywin responded, clearly perturbed by the interruption. “What is it?”

“I have a letter from one of the city guards.” He handed Tywin the scroll. The patriarch unrolled it, reading the contents. His green eyes flashed. “Shall I ready your horse?”

Tywin looked briefly at Brienne then turned back to the servant, “Yes, Mikael. I will be there in a moment. Call for Jaime as well. I need to speak to him at once.” The older man bowed again and left to do as his master wished. Tywin returned to her and she shifted from foot to foot. “Lady Brienne, I fear Jaime will not be able to take you exploring, but I will let the stable boy know to expect you and your handmaiden.” 

Brienne released the breath that she was holding in. “Thank you, Lord Tywin.”

He nodded quickly and left to meet with Jaime. Her body sagged as soon as she was alone. Being so close to Tywin made her exhausted. He kept her on her toes in a way that made her feel like she was being put on trial. She shook herself free from her thoughts and went in search of Tysha. She found her in the wash room, working on a pile of bed linens. Brienne bit her bottom lip, trying to decide if she should interrupt. The choice was taken from her by Tyrion coming up behind her.

“Lady Brienne,” he nodded in her direction. 

“Lord Tyrion,” she responded. “Have you finished with the master of money?”

“Yes,” he frowned. “I believe some changes will have to be made soon. The Lannister gold is not a resource that replenishes itself quickly. Are you here for Tysha?”

“I am, but I believe she might be too busy for the request.”

“And what might that be?”

“Your father has given me permission to explore the woods and the surrounding areas but I require a guide. Tysha mentioned that she used to live close to the edge of the forest and I thought she could help me stay away from trouble.”

Tyrion's eyebrows rose in surprise. “My father granted you that freedom?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?” She said cautiously. “Do you believe he would want me locked in the castle with needlepoint and books?” At his expression, she hastened to say. “Not that there is anything wrong with needlepoint or books, My Lord. I just don't do well with either. My fingers are too thick for tiny threads and my mind is too dull for words written on the page.”

This did not make him look any happier with her. If anything, her self-berating made him frown even more deeply. “I find that hard to believe, My Lady. I have seen your wit. It is quick and rather enjoyable. That is not the sign of a dull mind but of a mind full of ideas and promise. Mayhaps you do not find pleasure with a book as I do, but that does not make you lackwit. As for needlepoint, I have to admit, to find very little use for it. This castle is filled with women who spend their days doing nothing but embroider. I believe we have enough lion tapestries. I would be interested in hearing where you have gotten such a low opinion of yourself, Lady Brienne.”

She pressed her lips together. This was her shame- her secret and she did not wish to share it with someone she did not know. Even if that person was to be her betrothed. Instead, she shrugged. “It is my own thoughts, My Lord. I know I am not what most think of when they imagine a Lady. And my lack of grace does not help.” 

He watched her with his mismatched eyes. She smothered the urge to shift under his stare. He seemed to sense her discomfort and relented in his inquiry. “If you would like to explore, Lady Brienne. I would be honored to take you and Tysha can keep us company.”

She sighed and smiled. “That would be kind and I would love to have this adventure with you.”

They took Tysha from her duty, asking another handmaid to finish her task for her. Brienne gave the other woman an extra gold dragon for her trouble. She felt guilty, placing more work on the woman's shoulders but she needed to breathe fresh air and to see what this land had to offer. The walk to the stables was a comfortable one. The three talked very little but the silence was not a tense one. Brienne knew she would be left alone for a few moments and that sent a thrill down her spine. 

Brienne entered the stable, looking around her at all the beautiful beasts. They were all different colors and breeds. Her heart jumped at seeing a gray palfrey in the back. The horse's head was lowered. His nostrils were flared. She walked over to get a better look. The young stable boy rushed to stop her. 

“M'Lady, please. I have a horse ready for ya.”

She paused, glancing at the two sturdy mounts already prepared. They were strong creatures and she could see they would be smooth to ride. Each was calm, barely a swish of the tail. Her eyes slid back to the palfrey. Something in her connected with this horse and she started moving again. “Lord Tyrion is going riding with us. We will need a third horse.”

“This one is quite mean,” the boy said fiercely. “No one has been able to ride him. I shall find another for ya.”

_No!_ Her heart exclaimed. She tentatively reached out and placed her palm on the forehead of the beast. He stood still. The boy next to her gasped. She patted the strong side of the palfrey's neck and marvelled at the strength beneath her hand. “Please, lad, this one. I will saddle him if you feel uncomfortable doing so. Just bring me a bridle and saddle.” He looked scared. She let go of the horse and smiled reassuringly at him. “If I fall it will be by my own folly.” She turned to Tyrion and Tysha, who were both astride their horses. “Please Lord Tyrion, if anything should happen to me, let your father know it was of my own free will. This boy has done all he can.” 

“Understood,” her betrothed nodded. His eyes watching her closely again. She wondered what he was thinking of.

Pushing down her curiosity, she turned to the stable boy again. “Please bring me the saddle and bridle.” 

He hesitated a moment longer. The young eyes of the boy were conflicted but he finally nodded. “Yes, M'Lady.”

She took the leather from the boy as soon as he returned and set to work on getting the horse prepared. The beast never once acted aggressively toward her, to the amazement of the boy. She felt at ease with this. On Tarth, she would often prepare her own steed for riding. She enjoyed talking with the animals, petting them down and giving them treats. The horses never judged her for her looks and other faults. Maybe that was why she loved animals and nature. People were quick to think of themselves. Animals behaved in a much more honest way. 

Brienne climbed up on the horse and felt a sense of oneness with the creature. She gripped the reins and eased out of the stall to meet her riding companions. Together they set an easy pace, following the trails and carefully navigating the small dips in the dirt that could cause problems. Brienne looked around her. The forest was thick with moss-covered trees and strange foliage. She saw flowers she never had before and small animals that were foreign to her. It was blissful to be out of the castle, away from people she did not wish to see. She thanked the Gods for saving her from being forced to be with Jaime. That would have been a nightmare!

At a cross in the path, Tyrion looked over at Brienne and pointed to the left. “There is a lake beyond that hill. It is quiet and I spent a lot of time there as a child.” He pointed to the right. “This will lead to a small clearing.”

“I would love to see the lake.” Brienne was already turning her horse. “Will you be in the clearing?”

“If you do not mind being apart?” Tyrion said with his mouth, but his eyes were silently begging her to leave him with his lady love. She hid her smile and nodded. He puffed out his chest and grinned back. “Then we shall meet back here when the sun sets. We do not want to be in the woods after dark.”

“I will see you then, My Lord.” She took the path toward the lake. She was already dreaming of slipping into the cool water. The late spring weather was bleeding into summer quickly and she could feel the sweat gathering at the base of her back. It did not take her long to see the body of water Tyrion told her about. It was simmering and bright blue. There was enough cover that she felt she could strip and swim without concern of others seeing. Brienne eased from the horse, leading it to the lake for a drink, and tying it to a low hanging branch. “There, sweet boy.” She patted him down, pressing her face into the side of the horse's neck. 

Moving away from the animal, she quickly slipped out of her skirt and tunic, leaving her smallclothes on. Dipping a toe in, she hissed. The water was cold compared to her heated skin. She took a deep breath and eased down below the surface. It was like entering the seven heavens. Peaceful.

+-+-+-+

Tywin sat atop his horse. The black stallion pranced from side to side. Jaime took his place at his right. “How can we be sure they are really here?”

“They are always near,” he looked at his son. “It is why I have always told you all to be careful. This is trouble we do not wish to invite.”

Jaime nodded. Addam rode up to them. “Lord Tywin.” He nodded then turned to Jaime. “Jaime.” The two old friends shared a smile. The city guard's face turned stoic as he turned back to Tywin. “Lord Tywin, there have been hunters spotted in the woods on the east side. The body of a young man was discovered. Very little care was taken to hide the fact that it was a wolf attack.”

“How long have the hunters been in Lannisport?”

“A fortnight,” Addam said with some shame. “It appears they have been staying at an inn under false names.”

“Then he is not one of them,” Jaime said, shifting on the mount. “He is too famous and his deeds too well known to be able to sneak into our territory without our knowledge.”

“It looks to be some minor members of the family,” Addam admitted. “We have managed to capture one, but I am afraid he is not talking with us freely.”

“Do not kill him,” Tywin commanded. “Killing a hunter will only bring more to our doorstep. I want your officers to double the patrols in the area of the east side. They will come back to where the body was found in hopes of finding out which wolf did the unlawful killing.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Addam said with a nod. “I will have men stationed around the inn as well. I do not believe they will come back, but if one does, we will make sure to take him prisoner as well.”

“Very well.” 

Addam nodded once more and left. Tywin turned his horse back to the castle. “You did not do as I wanted.” He watched his son from the corner of his eyes. “I expect you to do as you are told and rectify this.”

“Father,” Jaime sat back on his white horse. “I will as soon as I see her again, but-”

“She is exploring the woods with Tysha.” Tywin interrupted. “You will find them and express your deepest apologies. I will not have a son be so disrespectful to a noble lady, especially one who will be a Lannister in five moons time.”

“What is it about this woman that makes you demand such from me?” Jaime raged. Tywin turned his eyes to his son. 

“You will watch your tone,” he said with a low growl to his voice. Jaime deflated and nodded curtly. “You will not cause her or her father to rethink this union. I will not have a son who does not know his place. Lady Brienne will be a member of this family and you will treat her as such.”

“Yes, father,” Jaime replied. “I will find her at once.” He rolled his shoulders back. “I do not think we will ever get along though. We do not like each other.” He paused on the path and turned his horse toward the woods. “Lady Brienne and I do agree on one point, father.”

“And what is that?”

“It is best if we stay away from each other.” Jaime explained. “And after I do as you wish, I think we will both make an effort to do just that.”

Tywin watched him go and smiled ever so slightly to himself. _No, Jaime_ he thought. _You will not._

+-+-+-+

Brienne kicked her legs hard to get to the surface. Her head broke through and she tipped her face up to the sun. Gods, she missed swimming in the lakes and ocean on Tarth. This felt like a piece of home. She angled her body and let the water below her take her weight. The sun's heat warmed the skin of her belly and the tops of her thighs. The ripples of the water tickled her cheeks and she closed her eyes. 

Her body had not felt this relaxed since she had gotten to Casterly Rock. If she let herself forget, she could almost believe she was back on her tiny island. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees as she continued to float. Brienne did not know how long she stayed on the water's surface, but she knew exactly what made her slip back down. A gasp broke through the stillness and she jerked her head up.

She let out a scream as her eyes collided with the green ones of Jaime Lannister. Brienne pulled as much of her body under the water, kicking her legs to keep afloat. Jaime stared at her. His eyes travelling the length of her. She covered her breasts with her hands, knowing it was useless. He had seen her. _He had seen her._ Her face heated up and she swam quickly to the furthest edge of the lake away from him. She could still feel his gaze on her as she curled her body to cover what she could.

Her loose hair helped to shield some of his view and she was suddenly very thankful that her father had refused her request to cut it. She looked over her shoulder and caught him smirking at her. “Do you have any decency!”

“I have done nothing, My Lady,” Jaime said as he stood on the shore. “You are the one swimming without clothes on.”

“I have clothes on!” She snapped, though she felt as nude as he said she was. The material of her smallclothes was soaked and transparent. He had seen her. He had _seen_ her! All of her. The phrase kept repeating in her head. He had seen places no other man as ever seen. She wanted to sink beneath the surface until he left or she drowned. Brienne looked at him again as he sat down on a rock, waiting for her to make the next move. He knew he had the upper hand. Her clothes were by him on the ground and she would have to stand before him in her sodden undergarments to retrieve them. She closed her eyes and gathered whatever courage she could find, swimming directly toward him. Jaime looked amused and surprised at her decision. She was slightly surprised herself. Once she reached the edge, she climbed from the water and dared him to look away. He met her challenge and traced her body with his gaze. She shivered again. “Turn around so I can dress,” she demanded, grabbing her clothes from the ground.

“As you wish, My Lady,” Jaime bowed in mock gallantry. She wanted to punch him all over again. “Did you enjoy your swim, Lady Brienne?”

She pulled her skirt up and laced her tunic as quickly as she could. The water was making everything stick to her and the light material of her tunic was already becoming as transparent as her smallclothes had been. Her body flushed and she crossed her arms over her chest. It was a fruitless move. Jaime Lannister, the man who had treated her badly since she arrived, had seen her nude and she could not escape that fact.

“I was,” she replied, her voice tight to her own ears. “Until I was rudely interrupted by a man who would gaze upon a half-nude woman who is not his intended.”

He turned back to face her. “Would it have been better for Tyrion to see you thus?” She was struck dumb. “My Lady, you need not worry so much. You have nothing I am interested in.” She ducked her head. As embarrassed as she was, that hurt. She shouldn't be surprised though. “I am here to apologize for my actions.”

“You are not starting your apology well, My Lord.” She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips. His eyes dropped to her breasts. Her nipples were rigid from the water and the change in temperature. She crossed her arms again. “Would you stop staring at me?”

He swept his eyes over her one more time. Brienne waited until he returned to her face. She knew her face was as red as his house colors but she could not give into the shame. If she did, she would never be able to face this man again. It was true that after she wed Tyrion, they would be living in separate worlds, but that was not for many moons. Until then, they were to be under the same roof. Cowering now would be an error she could not afford to make.

“I do sincerely apologize for my behavior, Lady Brienne.” She waited for the joke to be revealed, but it never came. She remembered her conversation with Lord Tywin and did not think he was apologizing of his own freewill but she was not looking for one anyway. She nodded at him and turned away. “Is that all? Just a nod and we are done?”

Brienne turned back. “Was there something else to discuss? You have done as you wanted and I have accepted. I do not see why we should prolong this conversation.”

“You do not feel the need to say you are sorry?”

“For what?” She stomped back to where he stood. “What have I done to earn your ire? I have merely been in your presence. And you seem to find that so offensive. You told me I _smelled_!”

“You do!” He growled, coming closer. “I do not know how you can stand yourself!”

If she was someone else, she might have hit him for that remark... but she was Brienne of Tarth. It felt like he had hit _her_. She stared at him, emotions building up inside of her. Twin waves crashed into her soul- one anger, one devastation. She curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into the fleshy parts. 

“You have proven my point, My Lord,” her voice was calm. Not a hint of waver or wrath. It was ice floating on the water. “I have accepted your false apology and your true feelings revealed themselves again. I did not seek you out and I will continue to follow that path. I ask you to do the same. In five moons, I will be away from you and you will never have to be assaulted by my smell again.” She walked to the horse and climbed up easily. Her back was straight. Her eyes were downcast so he would not see the tears. “Good day, My Lord.”

She kicked the horse's side and left the lake. She truly hoped she would never see that man again. Brienne could only take so much. It did not seem fair that a small part of her had enjoyed the way he had looked at her body. No man had ever even wanted to before...

+-+-+-+

_He rubbed his cheek against her smooth, strong thigh. Her arousal was making it hard for him to think. All he could do was want: want to claim, to touch, to know. Jaime traced lines up her inner legs, pulling them apart. Giving him a glimpse of the treasure hidden behind a patch of blonde hair. She arched into him, begging him silently to end the torture. He pushed her back down. He wanted to take his time. She had teased him in the water. Made him wait for her to notice him standing there. It was her turn. _

_She moaned, deep in her throat. Her long fingers twisted in the bed linen beneath her. He bared his teeth, nipping at the flesh before him. She jumped. Muscles taut as he continued to mark her with his bites. She was his. He would not let her forget that. He palmed the hardness between his legs. He could not wait to plunge into her warm, wet cunt. He could feel the heat of her against his mouth. His tongue came out, just to taste. Her essence was the darkest of honey. Forbidden in a way that he had never known. _

_He tasted her again and again. Yes, this is what he desired. She was dancing on his tongue. Her body moved and bucked and arched. The sweat coated both of their bodies. He inhaled. It was a symphony of scents in the air. The wolf inside of him whined. It was her, him, _them_ and he needed more. Her left hand untangled from the sheet and pulled at his hair. The small yank urging him to stop teasing and push inside. Jaime grinned fiercely, opening up her lips further. _

_Her legs bent, trapping him between them. As if he wanted to be anywhere else. He held her hips in place, diving back in... She moaned again._

_“Jaime...” Brienne whined._

He shot up in bed. Sweat covering his body. His heart thundered in his chest. He ran a shaky hand down his face. Jaime unwrapped the sodden sheets from his legs. He was in disbelief. Why in the fuck would he dream of her? He walked to the window, unlatching the lock and pushed against the frame. The familiar air cooled his heated skin. He gulped in some of it, needed to fill his lungs. 

Jaime braced himself against the wall, closing his eyes. Brienne appeared before him. Wet and strong. Her smallclothes clinging to her body, showing him everything. His cock throbbed painfully. She was nothing like Cersei. He was right about that. Their bodies could not be more different. And yet... he could not look away from Brienne's. Watching her come out of the water, dripping in crystals of the lake's making was an image he was not expecting. He would have left her to dress in peace- he should have- but she had acted as she had and he could do nothing but stare. 

He walked toward the bed, dropping his head into his hands. What was it about her that tested him? She should not bother him. She was simply an island girl. And he had Cersei. 

Cersei was beautiful and desirable. She had always made his heart race from the moment he knew what that meant. His sweet twin was everything a man could want. She was perfect. Her skin was the smoothest silk and smelled of freshly bloomed roses. His head snapped up. That was the scent Brienne had had on her skin as well. Why did it smell so different? On one it was like a spring day, on the other it was like poison. He did not understand! It made no sense! None of this made any sense.

Brienne of Tarth was pushing him to his breaking point and he could not stop himself from pushing back. Everyone else seemed to think she was wonderful. The very embodiment of the Maiden made real- other than the looks. Her kindness to Tysha, the way she made Tyrion smile, her innocence... They did not see the fire he had seen from her. The snap of her teeth. The strong swing of her sword. If she was the embodiment of any of the Gods, it would be the Warrior. And despite himself, it made him curious. 

And seeing her nude did not help things. His body was still pulsing with need. He wanted to find her and fuck the toxic scent from her skin. The dream was in his brain, forcing him to face some uncomfortable truths. He did not like Brienne of Tarth, but he did _want_ her. He wanted to bury his cock deep within her hot cunt. He wanted to own her for just one night to exorcise the demon under his skin. 

Jaime shifted and laid back on the bed. His mind was troubled. If he was this mad after only two days, he did not know what that would mean for him. Five moon turns with her. Five moon turns of thinking about her wet and dripping. Five moon turns of tension... 

He punched the mattress in frustration. He needed to find Cersei! He needed to fuck Brienne from his mind. Once he was sated by his _true_ lover, this twisted desire would fade and disappear as if it was never there to begin with. Yes, that was what needed to happen. His sweet sister would be at Casterly Rock for five more days and he would use that time to remind his body of who he really wanted.

Jaime would be back to the man he was before the Maid of Tarth showed up once he worked out his sexual frustration. He would find himself in his twin's arms, as he always had. He had never wanted anyone but Cersei and that would never change. This was his illness. He really needed to see the maester.

+-+-+-+

Staying away from Jaime after the incident at the lake proved to be easier than she thought for the first two days. They both worked hard to avoid the other. She would intentionally lie in bed a little longer in the mornings and stay out later in the evenings. When he would be in the practice yard, she would be with Tyrion breaking their fast. When she would take her turn with a sword, he would be with his twin. The only time they could not avoid being in the same room was when they had a feast to see her father off. Jaime did not look at her during supper, did not speak to her and she did the same with him. The prickle of tension knotted between her shoulder blades, but she was happy that he acted as if she didn't exist. 

Or at least that's what she told herself, while she stabbed her boar with a fork more harshly than needed. He still wrinkled his nose in disgust when she came into a room and she still felt like she was punched when he did. It was only after the feast that she had felt his eyes on her. When she turned to catch him, he was already looking at Cersei. Brienne convinced herself she was going mad. He made it clear he was not interested in anything she had to offer. She was not interested in him either, so why did she care?

That night she sat in her bedchamber by the open window crying. She had never really thought about being left alone with only her Septa to remind her of her home. It made her feel so much younger than her six and ten years. She dreamed of holding him close and begging him to stay with her. This was all part of her entrance into adulthood and it terrified her. As she cried, she thought about all that would happen to her. Her wedding to a man who loved another. Her duties as Lady Lannister. Her own dreams being hidden in the darkness until she could slowly bring them into the light. She curled into a ball on the chair, wrapping her long arms around her knees. She held herself tightly as the moon bathed her in a silvery glow.

The next day, she held her father a little tighter and bit her lip to stop the quiver. Selwyn kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear, “I am proud of you my little starlight. You are the best daughter a father could ask for.”

She took his hands in hers, holding him to her. “Father,” she almost said the words but stopped herself. She could not beg him to stay. She was to be married soon. Brienne looked into his eyes and made herself smile. She knew it was not a good effort on her part, but both pretended. “Have a safe trip back to Tarth. I will miss you.”

He kissed her again. “I will be back in three moons. It will go quickly.”

As she watched his horse disappear from view, her stomach dropped to her feet. She had never felt so alone. She turned around to head back into the castle when she caught _him_ watching her. Jaime stood on one of the rocky hills. His eyes following her every move. She dropped her gaze from his. She was not in the mood to fight... with herself or him. 

Two days after her father left, she had had enough of the rose soap. She wanted something reminding her of the type of fragrances her mother liked. She did not know or remember her mother, but when she was six, she found a bar of sweet mint soap in her mother's chambers. The fragrance calmed her and it was easy to find on her island. She hoped she could find something similar in Lannisport. Septa Roelle, another person she sought to avoid, requested that she be present as she went to the shops in the city. Brienne frowned but knew she would have to take someone.

She purposefully did not bathe that morn. She did not want to be covered in roses if she could find a more pleasing aroma. Brienne moved through the small booths, picking up chunks of soaps, searching for the perfect one.

“This is ridiculous,” Septa Roelle commented from behind her. “It is a waste of money when the Lannisters have been so generous to provide you with a perfectly good bar to use.”

“I do not believe anyone asked you,” Brienne said quietly to herself, but she knew the older woman heard her from the slight pinch to her upper arm. Brienne spun around, she has been pushed too far this week. Between Jaime's coldness and hurtful nature and her father leaving her in a strange place, her normal composure vanished. “Do not lay a hand upon me.” Something in her eyes must have shown how serious she was because the Septa quickly folded her hands into the material of her dress. Brienne regained her composure. “I appreciate the Lannisters for all they have given me, but I am not comfortable with the rose scent and this coin is mine to spend.”

She entered the last stall and found a bunch of herbs hanging down to dry. She smiled at some of the familiar scents. The cook on Tarth would hang herbs all over the kitchen. Some, he claimed protected the house from evil spirits. Some were for good luck and others just tasted damn good. Brienne smiled thinking of him, with his potbelly and loud laugh. She picked up a bundle of light green and white stalks. The fragrance, as she held it to her nose, was citrusy and fresh, crisp. She closed her eyes. It was just what she was looking for. 

The trader walked up with a sly grin. “Ah, the lady likes,” he said with a heavy accent. “This comes from a far off place.”

“What is the name?”

“Lemongrass,” he said, producing a bottle with thick oil in it. “It has been used for many centuries. It heals and gives the wearer energy. Come, come,” he pulled her arm toward him and dropped just the tiniest amount on her wrist. Brienne inhaled. “It was also used by the kings to keep bugs away. Ah, yes, it warms with your skin. A perfect match.”

“How much?”

“For you, my lovely lady,” the trader pursed his lips. “Three silver stags.” At Brienne's look he held up his hands. “It is a deal. The oil plus the lemongrass roots. It will bring you many years of uses. A bargain!”

Brienne was not sure about his words, but she enjoyed the fragrance so much that she was willing to be tricked. She pulled out her purse and removed the coins he asked for. The dealer grinned, bundling up her purchase. She smiled to herself as she left the stall. The smile dropped immediately when she ran into the solid body of a man.

+-+-+-+

Jaime grunted over Cersei. Her legs were wrapped tightly around him as he pushed inside of her. She moaned at just the right moments, rolled her hips against his, clawed at his back and pressed her generous chest to his. It was a dance they had done most of their lives but Jaime could barely keep his mind straight. His plan to fuck Brienne from his thoughts turned out to be a bad one. 

No matter how hard he fought against it, he could not stop thinking of the tall woman. When he closed his eyes, he did not picture Cersei's perfect pout- he saw Brienne's full lips open and wet from his kisses and her tongue. He did not picture Cersei's breasts, he saw small perk teats with dusty pink nipples. He did not picture Cersei's curvy body, he wanted the strong one he had seen ascending from the lake.

It was frustrating and he often left their private moments angrier than he was when he entered the room. The woman under him cooed as she started to reach her peak. He moved his hand to where they were joined and helped her along by rubbing at the nub between her legs. Cersei broke with a quiet moan. He thrust a few more times before he followed her. 

She did not let him rest long before she was pushing against him and rearranging her skirt. She ran a hand through her hair, combing the tangles out. “You should have been quicker.” She said over her shoulder. “Father will be back from speaking with the city guardsmen soon. We must clean up before then.”

“I believe you are the only woman who requests from her lover to move quicker.” Jaime tucked his softening cock back into his breeches. “I think most women would like a man to spend time preparing them.”

Cersei arched her eyebrow at him, “We have never spent time worrying about such things before. Why start now?” She stood, crossing her arms. “Is it because you are thinking of someone else, dear brother?” He looked sharply at her. She snarled, her lips curling back to show her teeth. “You are not very subtle. You watch her when she is not looking. You think I have not noticed?”

He got to his feet, his patience waning. “Are we going to have this conversation again? There is nothing between the maid of Tarth and me. We do not speak or even strive to be in the same room. I have been in your bed every night. Stop this foolish jealousy.”

“You do not have to be with her to want her,” she snapped. “I can smell it. You desire her. You use me to cover your sick obsession.”

“If you believe this to be true,” Jaime challenged. “Why do you allow it?”

“I allow it because I know you love me,” she stood in front of him, her hand curling around his chin. “Your mind is sick at the moment, but it will clear. She is but a momentary bout of madness, over what Robert has done. You are mine, dear brother. I do this...” she pointed to the bed. “To make sure you remember who truly gives you pleasure. She is nothing. It is only us and it will only ever be us. From birth until our death.”

She turned on her heel and left him standing there in the darkened room. He exited, after waiting a few moments to give time for Cersei to get away. He would have to bathe before his father returned. She was not wrong about that. Jaime used the basin in his chambers to clean up, taking special care to remove her scent from his cock. He relaxed a little when he could only smell a hint of her on his chest. That would not be suspicious. Cersei pressed against him many times in their father's presence. 

He was descending the stairs when he saw Tywin return. He met his father at the base and took in his expression. “Have they found the rest of the hunters?”

“No,” Tywin grimaced. “But they are still here. I smell them in the air. The stench of the hunter is one I know well.” He looked over his son and his eyes flashed. “Have you seen Lady Brienne today?” 

Jaime did not know what game his father was playing. He knew that Lady Brienne and he had barely seen each other, to keep the peace and please his father. He also did it to keep his remaining sanity. The Alpha's eyes were back to the normal pale green. He could never read his father. It was how Tywin liked it. “I have not. Nor do I care to. She and I have finally reached a peaceful place.”

Tywin gave a short nod. Jaime got the feeling his father did not believe him about being at peace, and honestly, he did not believe himself. “I have some concerns about the way the city guard is handling the hunters. The captured one is stubbornly silent and others have not shown themselves. It is a tactic unlike how they usually work.”

“You wish for me to do something,” Jaime asked. He was relieved Tywin had stopped talking about the maid of Tarth. He did not doubt that the topic would arise again. His father never said anything without cause. But like all things, he would not reveal what he was thinking until he was ready. “I can speak with Addam. Maybe speak with the prisoner myself.”

“I have already done both of those.” He walked into the library with Jaime following. “The men are doing what is asked and as frustrating as it is, I can not ask more of them. The hunters have a new plan and as such we shall need one as well.” He sat down and waited for Jaime to mirror him. “The wolf responsible for the unlawful killing must be punished. The presence of the hunters will bring attention from other houses. It will make us appear weak. As if we can not control our own.”

“Do you have an idea who might have killed the peasant?”

“No,” Tywin's eyes flashed again. This time the emotion was clear. He was angry. “The scent had faded and been mixed with many others by the time I could get there. I do know it was one of us. Our family's scent was all I could get clearly.”

“What would you have me do?”

“We need to keep our presence in Lannisport.” Tywin leaned back. “The small folks must know we are worried about them and are taking this death seriously. I want you walk around with Addam. You will soon take my place as Lord of Casterly Rock. Our vassals need to know your strength.” Tywin stared hard at him. “Do not disappoint me.”

Jaime nodded. His body prickling in annoyance. He walked to the stables and got his white horse ready. The trip to Lannisport was filled with unwanted thoughts. He had spent most of his time with his pack the last night of the full moon. How could one of them kill without the others knowing? They can not have a rogue wolf. The delicate balance that has always been there between hunters and wolves had been put in place to help both survive. A rogue wolf would throw everything off and would make the people aware of what was really behind the veil of night.

He was uncomfortable thinking about which member of his family it could be. He wanted to believe that it was a distant cousin or a young pup struggling to control their urges. This would not make it right and the wolf would still have to be dealt with, but it would ease his mind a little. He got off his horse and gave him to a stable boy in the city. He walked swiftly through the busy marketplace, slamming into a woman coming out of a stall. He reached out to steady her on instinct. 

The scent of fresh citrus, sea breeze and salt hit him with force. He looked into her sapphire eyes and his blood heated. She smelled different but he liked it. Jaime really liked it. It was light and crisp and did not cover the scent of her skin. He inhaled deeply.

Brienne looked startled at being in his arms. Her teeth came out to bite at her bottom lip. He licked his own. He could not get over the return to her natural fragrance. It was like emerging from a nightmare to be embraced by the sweet warmth of the sun. 

Her body stiffened. “Thank you for helping me, My Lord.” She gently moved away from him. He found himself following. “You can let go now, Ser Jaime.” Her tone was slightly cross and filled with discomfort.

“You finally took my advice,” he said with a smile. His mind feeling light and his body reacting. “I can stand to be around you without the need to gag.” The Septa behind her coughed out a laugh, quickly covering her lips with her hand.

“I did nothing for you, My Lord,” she pulled herself free from his hold. Her cheeks were red. “You were not even on my mind.”

He smirked. “I do not believe that.” And he didn't. He could smell a tang in the air. The beginnings of arousal. “Lady Brienne, I think you protest too harshly.”

“And I think, My Lord,” she smiled sweetly. “That your ego is too large to be next to. It is suffocating. Now if you will excuse me. I must get back to Casterly Rock. My betrothed awaits me.”

Jaime bristled. He had forgotten for a moment that she was not free. She was his brother's. And his brother was falling in love with her. A knot formed in his stomach. He had been fantasizing about Brienne while fucking Cersei and that was already a betrayal, but he had not even thought much about his younger brother. Jaime felt sick. What kind of man lusted after a woman who was promised to his kin?

The shame he felt was not one he was used to. He had never felt guilty over taking Robert's wife. Cersei was _his_. It was only right that he should fuck her. But Tyrion was not Robert and he did feel guilt over even wanting the tall blonde... now that he really thought about it. The problem was that he did not know how to stop. His wolf was interested. He could sense the way the animal recognized Brienne. The wolf prowled under his skin in their every encounter: when she was in his arms, at the lake or even when they fought.

He shook himself free of his thoughts when he saw Addam come toward him. It was pointless to spend much time on this. It would fade. Cersei was right. It was only a momentary obsession. One that would pass, as hers did with Rhaegar.

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A storm gathered in the distance, dark clouds threatening to let loose on those without shelter. Brienne grimaced at the building doom. Her practice would have to be cut short. It was hard enough to train in a skirt, as she was still not confident about wearing breeches around Tywin; a wet skirt would surely cause her to meet the ground more than once. She placed the sword back in the armory, nodding at the young squire who was polishing the blades for his knight. She did not know who told them that she could train, but she was not going to press the issue.

As long as no one caused a fuss, she was not going to invite trouble. She exited the armory just as the first thick droplet of rain fell from the sky. She ran as the water fell faster and harder. Her tunic and hair clung to her. She bent her head down to try and make it easier to see as she dodged puddles of mud. The storm started with abandon. A strike of lightning ripped across the sky, illuminating the way. She pushed harder. Brienne was used to summer rain but, like everything in the Sunset Sea, this was harsher.

The doors to the castle appeared before her and she sagged with relief. Her body was soaked to the bone and she longed to get somewhere dry. She pulled open the doors and stood in the foyer. Her clothes dripping, her hair ropes of dark blonde, her body shivering. A servant came up to her.

“M'Lady,” she said, leading her to a room off to the side. “A fire blazes in this room. Please warm yerself and I will bring some hot tea.”

Her teeth chattered in her head and she nodded, “Th-th-thank y-y-you.” 

She entered the study, a room she had never been in before and walked immediately over to the fire. The warmth seeped into her bones quickly and her teeth stopped clicking together. She wrung out her hair, mindful to stay on the stone and not get water on the fur carpets. Brienne looked above the large stone and marble hearth and gasped. The most beautiful sword hung proudly in the center. The blade's silver shone and glinted in the light. It was well made, she could tell. The hilt was red leather and tightly wrapped. The pummel was a roaring lion's head, fierce and proud. Her fingers reached out as if they had a mind of their own.

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Jaime entered the Castle just as the rain started to really fall down heavily. He walked over to a servant. “Start a fire in the library hearth and bring me a pitcher of warmed honeyed wine to enjoy.”

“Yes, M'Lord,” the servant bowed and went to do as he asked. 

Jaime quickly ran up the stairs to his bedchamber and removed the jerkin he had been wearing. He wanted to relax and the garment was too binding for that. He grabbed a loose tunic and changed out his shirt as well. He felt some tension in between his shoulder blades and rolled them to work it loose. It had been a couple of days since Cersei and Robert had made their way back to King's Landing and he had noticed the change. 

He had nowhere to work out the frustration he felt being around the maid of Tarth, except for the practice yard and even that was not helping much anymore. Occasionally, his mind would drift to her sweating with a sword in hand and he would imagine fighting with her... followed by introducing her to a different form of swordplay. His dreams had only gotten more intense since her natural scent outshone again. The few times they have been in the same room and he pressed her to anger, he could also smell the dark tang of her arousal. She was fighting it as he was. The fragrance of her haunted him and called to him.

Jaime frowned at himself. He tried to stay away from her as they had agreed, but it was getting more difficult. Tyrion was often off with the master of money, trying to come up with other ways to ensure the Lannister wealth did not run dry. It meant that Brienne would wander the castle, leaving her scent in every room for him to find. It was slowly driving him to distraction. He fought against the desire to follow her trail throughout the castle.

He groaned at the heat pulsing through his body. He left the bedchamber and headed for the study. Before he even opened the door, he knew she was there. He should have turned around. The need was getting stronger and stronger the closer to the full moon they got. He was not sure what it would be like to be around her for three sennights. Jaime pushed open the door against his better judgment. Brienne was standing by the hearth. Wet and dripping, just as she had been when emerging from the lake. She reached out to touch the family sword, Brightroar. Her hand sliding against the smooth metal front. He imagined her hand touching another sword, made of flesh and blood.

He walked up behind her just as her thumb touched the sharp edge gently. “You really shouldn't touch what is not yours.” He whispered.

She gasped in pain. The bloom of red covered her thumb. She turned quickly to face him. “I am sorry,” she said. It was the first time she had apologized to him. Her mouth was slack, her eyes were bright with pain. “You are right. I shouldn't have touched your family's sword.”

He took her hand in his. A werewolf's saliva can help heal wounds quicker. He brought her thumb to his face. It was heady smelling her so close. Her blood had a sweetness to it. He had smelt human blood before. He had caused others to shed it- in battle and as a wolf- and it had never smelt like hers. She was different. Everything about her was calling to him. He wanted more. His heart thundered in his chest. Jaime watched her as he sucked her thumb into his mouth. His tongue flicked across the pad of her finger, where the blade had cut deeply into her. He now had her taste in his head as well as her scent. Brienne was on him, around him, coursing through him. 

Her eyes went wide in shock. The blue receded in lust. The air was thick as he removed the digit from his mouth. She shook. He moved closer to her. Her nostrils flared and this time she inhaled deeply. Her cheeks flushed, but she did not leave.

“I am sorry too, My Lady,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I should not have startled you.” He looked down at the wound which was in a better state than before he used his tongue on it. “I am glad it was not deep.”

She seemed to come back to herself and looked at her thumb as well. “Ah,” she was still shaking. “Why did you... I mean I have never... you licked the blood...”

He was lost as to how to explain. To him it was simple. He could help her heal. And he could take her into him. It was a primal want that he had never experienced before, but he now wanted to know how she tasted everywhere. “It was inappropriate, My Lady. I apologize again.”

She nodded. Her eyes were still wide and she looked lost in lust and confusion. He felt the same. Whatever was happening with them, he feared, would not fade away as easily as he had hoped.

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	4. Blood Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She stared at him. His lips wrapped around her finger. His mouth was hot and wet and oh so nice. She trembled, lost in the moment. Her mind completely blank. Jaime's tongue swiped the pad of her thumb and Brienne felt like she was going to pass out from the feeling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't normally put trigger warnings but I feel I should say something: This chapter deals with child abuse (both emotional and physical). To get where I needed to go I had to have this chapter and this subject. It also has violence in it. The chapter gets intense. I really hope you all do enjoy this part even with the subject. Please know that this story is going to have a happy ending... my beta would hunt me down if it didn't. Thank you for all of you that have read, commented and left kudos. That brings more joy to me than you could ever know. 
> 
> \-------------------
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Merrymaya. She slaves over each chapter with me and helps me produce the best story my tiny brain can come up with. LOL She is also the master mind of the beautiful section dividers. She has a story on the site as well, please go check her out.
> 
> \--------------------
> 
> Thank you to the super talented, Ro Nordmann, for the amazing art work. I love it. It's beautiful and I'm in awe of your talent!
> 
> \---------------------

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/dateposted/)

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She stared at him. His lips wrapped around her finger. His mouth was hot and wet and oh so nice. She trembled, lost in the moment. Her mind completely blank. Jaime's tongue swiped the pad of her thumb and Brienne felt like she was going to pass out from the feeling. A warmth started pooling between her legs, a throb, a need. She was desperate to relieve the sweet desire. She swallowed roughly as he removed her finger from his mouth slowly. It took all of her willpower not to whimper and whine for him to place his mouth back on her- somewhere, anywhere. The heat from the fire next to them suddenly felt dull compared to the heat coursing through her veins. 

His green eyes held hers. She felt like the room was disappearing around them. He took a step closer to her and that's when she smelt it. A dark scent. Passion unleashed. It was like sandalwood, mahogany and moonlight. Her mind worked over that- _how could moonlight have a scent?_ She did not know. But that's what it reminded her of. The sweltering heat of a summer night surrounded by the trees and the earth. Brienne inhaled more deeply. It was making her lightheaded, but she wanted more. She wanted to explore this new fragrance. What did it mean? Where was it coming from? Why was it making her heart pound and her body weak?

“I am sorry too, My Lady,” he said. His voice was thick and rumbled through her. “I should not have startled you.” He looked down at the finger he had in his mouth and a small smile curled his perfect lips. She held her breath, watching him. This was the closest they had ever been without reaching for anger and she could see the danger in it. “I am glad it was not deep.”

Her mind slowly pushed through the fog of lust and confusion. It was hard and she was still moving as if stuck in the mud. “Ah,” Her insides were still quivering and pulsing. “Why did you... I mean I have never... you licked the blood...”

The green of his irises was all but gone. The lust she felt reflected in his gaze. The warning bells were sounding off in her head. This was not right. They did not like each other. She was promised to another. She needed to back away, put space between them. She did not move. “It was inappropriate, My Lady. I apologize again.” 

She nodded in almost a dim-witted fashion. She was not sure she understood his words. She was not sure she understood anything. It was nearly impossible to think. Brienne was lost in all the feelings inside of her. She had never been so interested in a man before. Her eyes dropped from his and slid down his body. The evidence of his reaction to her pressed against his breeches. She flushed and looked away.

It did not make sense. He was beautiful and arrogant and could have any woman he so chose. Why did he _want_ her? She could not deny he did. His eyes bored a fire into her soul, his obvious physical reaction and the way he spoke- told her the truth. But it was an inconvenient truth. It was one that would lead nowhere. It was one she could not indulge in. She was to be married to his brother. She would leave this castle and start her life with another in a few moons time. 

Jaime Lannister was dangerous to her well being. He was tempting her and she was not prepared to fight against that. Brienne picked at the skin around her nails nervously. This was madness. This was going to be her end. Her heart pounded in her chest. He took another step toward her. She flinched slightly, but looked into his eyes. He touched her cheek. Fingertips brushing over her skin. She held her breath. What else could she do? His thumb traced the fullness of her bottom lip. She swayed.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, sliding down her throat, resting on her chest. Gods, what was happening? She was locked in this moment with him. She could not break free if she tried... which if she was being honest with herself, she was not trying all that hard. The tension that had been there since they met was thickening and causing her to forget what she should do. Brienne licked her lips and he moved closer. It was like a rope being pulled tighter and tighter around them. She should fight this, she reminded herself. She needed to fight this.

The door to the library opened and she jumped out of his arms. Her body felt like she was on fire. She looked at the person who interrupted them and her stomach dropped. Septa Roelle looked at her with a pinched expression. Brienne felt shame at being caught with another man. She chanced a glance at Jaime and saw his eyes on the Septa. His body was tense and he looked as if he wanted to say something harsh. She moved away from him and that brought his attention back to her. 

She was once again caught between wanting to stay and knowing she needed to go. Her heart and mind were at war, her body was making a play for control as well. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stepped back. Once, twice, thrice... kept putting space between them. The further from him she got, the clearer her mind became. “Thank you for your help, My Lord,” she was embarrassed by the shake in her voice. “I...”

She stopped because she did not know what to say. Nodding in his direction, she quickly walked to the door. Septa Roelle's judgmental eyes followed her. She ducked her head. She knew what was to come. She knew the damnation and the accusations... and she also knew she deserved them all. Brienne had crossed a line with Jaime. She rushed up the stairs toward her chambers. She heard her septa behind her. The footfalls measured and she held her breath.

Brienne could have locked the door. She had every right. But it would be only putting off the inevitable. She was already pacing when Septa Roelle entered the room. She heard the door close behind the other woman and felt her back tighten. Her insides were turning to ice. Years with this lady had conditioned her to react a certain way. She turned to face the thundering expression and felt a small amount of fear. In all reality, this woman could not hurt her. She was larger and a better fighter. She was a noble and the other woman was employed by her family, but that was logic and reason and right now, Brienne was thinking with neither.

“Your father would be ashamed,” the first words. A cut to the gut. Brienne looked down, away, cowered in on herself. “His daughter, betrothed to one brother and caught with another.” Her lip trembled. Her stomach dropped. _I am sorry, father._ She pleaded in her head. “You should be grateful that I saw you and not Lord Tywin. He has been so generous with you. This is how you repay them? You seduce one brother and plan to marry the other?”

“But I...” She stopped at the cutting look she received. It was not her... but maybe it was. She was the one swimming almost nude at the lake, she was the one who touched the sword, she was the one who did not pull away when he took her hand in his. She was the one who did not remove her thumb from his mouth. Red hot shame blasted through her like the breath of a dragon. “I...”

“You what?” Septa Roelle moved closer. “I thought I taught you better. I never knew you would do such whorish things!” Brienne felt the slap of her words and flinched. “This is the second time I have seen you in his arms. You should act like a Maid, not a whore looking for coin.”

Brienne swallowed. “I did not do anything.” Her voice was small. Her eyes welled up with tears. She did do something. She had lusted after a man who was not her intended. She had acted in an inappropriate manner. Her fault. She was going to give into her base needs and hurt her family and island. “I am sorry.”

“You should be,” Roelle clicked her tongue and moved even closer. “You should be ashamed. You should know that this union is not based on love and can be broken. Lord Tywin would have every right to remove us from this castle. He was kind to promise his son to you when no other Lord would dare.” She winced. “Lord Jaime is not really interested in you anyway. He could have anyone. You are merely a toy for him to bat around. Stop thinking otherwise and start focusing on your duty.”

“I am,” Brienne whispered. But was she? Really? She had not given much thought to her wedding day, other than it was looming in the distance. “I will do better.”

“Will you?” Septa Roelle was almost toe to toe with her now. “Will you be able to act like a Lady worthy of the Lannister name? Worthy of the Tarth family name?” Roelle looked her up and down leaving her bare, flaying her with her words. The door opened silently behind them, Brienne looked up and saw Tysha standing there. Her eyes were wide and Brienne turned away. Septa Roelle turned to see the handmaiden step into the room. “Were you invited to enter? Have you no decency?”

Brienne moved to stand in front of Tysha. She deserved Septa Roelle's venom. She had acted in a dishonorable manner, but her handmaid did not. “Septa Roelle, you will not speak to her in such a manner.”

Roelle smiled tightly, “You wish to act like the Maiden now? Protect your virtue and do not worry about a simple servant. She and _you_ can be replaced in this home. Remember that.” She left the two younger women alone.

Tysha looked at her with worry and she ducked her head. “I am sorry for her behavior. She was...” Brienne did not know what to say. “I am sorry.”

“Please, M'Lady,” Tysha moved more fully into the room. “Are you alright, Lady Brienne?”

_No_ she thought. _I am not. I am letting my father and my home down._ She straightened her spine and nodded with a shaky smile. “Yes, Tysha. I am fine.” The smile on her face was false and her body felt like it was weighted down with her faults. She wanted to cry. _I am sorry father..._

Tysha looked at her with sadness. She did not want pity. It hurt her almost as much as Septa Roelle's words had. Brienne wanted to hide away from the look on the other woman's face. Tysha seemed to know that she did not want to discuss Septa Roelle. She smiled at Brienne and walked over to the wardrobe. She pulled out a light emerald dress for her to wear. 

“Let us get you out of that wet dress, M'Lady,” Tysha said, placing the gown on the bed. “It is time to ready you for supper.”

_Oh, Gods,_. she thought in horror. _I will be sitting across from Jaime at supper._ How would she handle that? Could she keep her emotions in check? Her desires? Would she be as whorish as Septa Roelle called her? Her insides were shaking again and she felt weak. Tysha came to her side and helped her to the bed.

“Do I need to find the Maester, M'Lady?”

Brienne looked at her with gratitude. This could be her excuse to not show up for the family meal. “Yes,” she said. “Please and if you could tell, Lord Tyrion I am feeling a little unwell. I will not make it to supper on this night.”

Tysha looked worried again. She nodded quickly. “I will, M'Lady.” 

She left to find the Maester and Brienne curled into a ball. She felt the tears in her throat and turned her head to the pillow. How could she do this? How could she lust after the brother of her betrothed? She knew better. She had a duty... What was wrong with her?

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Tyrion sat in the study, a large book opened before him. He turned the pages slowly, reading every word over and over again. He did not know why he was still looking for something to help him ease into his transformation. It was a foolish task to keep looking, he despaired that he would not find the answers he wished for. It was useless and he was wasting his time. 

The door to the study opened slowly and he looked up. His heart began to race and his breath caught in his throat. He would never get over how beautiful she was. He would never understand what she saw in him. He was a monster to most, but to her he was a beauty. He stood up and walked toward her. She looked behind her before closing the door with a soft clap. He stopped moving, confused. They were never alone in a room without the door open. It would be easier to explain a female servant talking with a Lord with the door ajar than with it closed. Tysha looked at him troubled. Her bottom lip was bloody and his insides began to chill.

Did someone find out about them? Was she hurt? What happened? His mind raced and he felt sick to his stomach. If he caused her to be hurt, he would not know what he would do. She took several steps toward him and knelt on the ground. He closed the space, forgetting that they were not supposed to touch. That their scents should not mix. He held her hands in his. 

“What is it, my sweet?” He asked while trying not to panic.

“Lady Brienne has taken ill,” she said but there was something in her eyes that told him that was not what worried her so. “She has asked that I tell you that she will not be at supper with you this night. But, My Lord...”

“Yes,” he urged. “What is it?”

“I walked in on a conversation between her septa and her...” Tysha paused. Her eyes growing more and more troubled with each word. “I've never heard a Septa speak like that to a Lady.”

“What did she say?”

Tysha looked uneasy. “She... she made a comment about Brienne being replaced as your intended. And that I could be replaced also.” His eyebrows came together. “But I think... there is something wrong, My Lord. Lady Brienne looked...” she shrugged. “I think you should watch her, My Lord. I'm worried for her. This woman is cruel.”

Tyrion pursed his lips, “Lady Brienne has made comments to me about her distaste for her Septa. I thought she was merely unhappy with how stern she was. Mayhaps, it is more.” He thought on how Brienne looked when she was speaking about the woman. He started pacing the room. Tysha stood and watched him. “She talked about herself in a very harsh way the day we all went for a ride...” His mind was puzzling out the problem quickly. “I was taken by her words. I believe I was hearing from her Septa and not from Brienne.”

“What will you do, My Lord?” Tysha asked. 

“I will watch and I will be mindful of what I hear.” He walked back over to her. “I ask that you do the same. If you see anything, come to me. If this Septa is as bad as you say and as I now believe, we will have to be there for her as she has been there for us.”

“I will, My Lord,” she said sincerely. “I will watch and tell you everything.” She looked down at him critically. “Is something wrong with you, My Lord?”

He shook his head, “I am just trying to find a way to ease the pain.”

Tysha's eyes grew sad. “I wish I could take your pain away, My Lord. I wish I could give you comfort.”

“Tysha,” he took her hands in his again. “You bring me joy and love. That is comfort. If I have to suppress my wolf, then I will. It might be for the best. I was not meant to be a part of this world. But if I have you, then I will be content.”

“I wish more for you, My Lord,” she said quietly. “I wish for you to have everything.”

“You are my everything,” Tyrion replied honestly. He would give up all he had to be with her. She was his light and his stars. Ever since he met her with his brother all those years ago. Ever since she had smiled at him and did not turn away in horror. Ever since she had looked into his mismatched eyes and did not shrink away. He had loved her. He did not think someone such as she should love him back, but he thanked the Seven everyday that she did. “I am most happy with you.”

“And I with you, My Lord,” she pressed her forehead to his. It was as close to an embrace as they could get. “I must get back to my duties, My Lord.” He heard the reluctance to leave him in her voice. He felt his reluctance to let her go in his heart. “I...” He nodded. He knew.

He loved her too.

She turned and left the room. He ran a hand down his face. His mind was full with Tysha's revelations and his own suspicions. Tyrion walked back to the book and closed it, placing it on the shelf with the others. He needed to get ready for supper but first he wished to check on his pledged. He made his way to Brienne's chambers slowly. He wanted to plan what he would say, what he would ask. He knew she would not tell him the truth. She was used to holding this secret inside, so he would have to be vigilant. Tyrion would have to watch how she reacted. If her brow became slick with sweat. How fast would her heart pound in her chest. 

He knocked on the solid wood of her door and waited. A moment, two, three, he was patient. He heard her shift, the slow movements of a person dreading to face what awaited them. It made him upset to think of her this way. Brienne opened the door and he fought hard not to gasp. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was pale. Her large body appeared small. Tyrion was astounded by her. He knew the strong, smart, capable woman- this was not someone he recognized.

“My Lady,” he said softly. “Tysha said you were not feeling well. I have come to make sure you are alright.” She would not meet his eyes and that sent his mind running again. “Lady Brienne?”

“Lord Tyrion,” her voice was as small as her person. He felt his stomach drop to his knees. The truth he thought he would have to search for was there on the surface. “I am sorry, My Lord, I really do not feel up to company. Tysha was right. I have a bit of a stomach illness. I do not wish for you to get my ailment.”

_Lie._ Her heart was fluttering in her chest. Her body heat was rising. He kept his face free from emotion except for concern. “Should I get the Maester?”

“Thank you, My Lord,” she said. She shifted on her feet. “But I have seen Maester Pycelle. He has told me to just rest until the illness wanes.”

Tyrion watched her eyes dart around him. Never coming to rest on his own. “Tysha is very concerned, My Lady.” Brienne flinched. He felt the anger rise in his body. She should never feel this way. “I shall have the servants bring your meal to your chambers. You must eat to regain your strength, Lady Brienne.” She nodded, her eyes briefly finding his. The anguish and torment he saw in the endless blue made him want to kill the septa himself. “I will come to check on you after supper. Please go rest, Lady Brienne.”

She nodded and shut the door gently. His body was knotted with stress. He let his mind came up with a million different ways to torture the older woman. Brienne was too kind to be so broken down by the one tasked with raising her. He stopped a kitchen servant on the way to the dining hall and asked that a plate be brought to Lady Brienne's chamber. He was still thinking of the many ways he could use to kill the Septa as he sat at the table with his family. Tywin looked at him and then at the empty seat next to him.

“Should we wait for Lady Brienne?” His father asked, clearly annoyed.

Tyrion placed his napkin on his lap and looked at his father. “No, father,” he reached for the pitcher of Dornish wine. “She has come down with an illness and has been told to rest.” He noticed Jaime's head snap up. He looked at his brother in confusion. 

“Is she unwell,” Jaime asked. A frown on his face. “Did she say what was wrong?”

Tyrion watched his brother closely. “She said she had an ailment of the stomach.” He took a slow sip from his goblet. “I am surprised you care about my betrothed, dear brother. I thought you did not like Lady Brienne.”

Jaime shifted in his seat. Tyrion kept his thoughts off his face. His eyes narrowed and he sniffed the air slightly. The scent was faint, but it was there on his brother's skin. Lady Brienne's light mix of citrus, sea breeze and salt. Tyrion took another sip of wine to let his brother stew. He wondered...

“I would never wish illness on your intended, dear brother.” Jaime said but he did not meet his eyes. Tyrion nearly choked on his drink. _Could it be?_ “I hope she recovers swiftly.”

“Yes,” Tyrion nodded. “I do as well.” He speared a boiled carrot and chewed slowly. Now he had more to think about.

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Jaime stood at the end of the hall containing Brienne's chambers. His bedchamber was on the other side of the castle and he had no reason to be where he was, but he wanted to make sure that she was alright. The wolf under his skin pawed at him, whimpering and worried. He looked behind him, cautious of how this would appear. The walls were quiet. The servants were finishing up for the night and retiring to their quarters. 

He took a step toward her chamber door. The closer he got, the more he could sense her. Her light fragrance whiffed up from the crack under her door to meet him, greet him, invite him closer. He was a slave to it. Jaime was almost at the solid wooden door when he stopped. He heard her shifting in her room. The rustle of her body against the sheets. The smell of her skin. The soft whispers of her breath. She was sleeping.

Was she dreaming of him? Was her mind filled with fantasies of them rolling under the linen, pressed together? He swallowed and turned around to head back to his chamber. He looked up into the flashing green eyes of his father. Tywin pressed his lips together and arched his left brow. Jaime felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What has brought you to this side of the castle, son?” Tywin stepped from the shadows. His body deceptively relaxed. Jaime's body was tense. He did not have an answer. “Jaime?”

“I came to see how Lady Brienne was,” Jaime stepped away from the door, even as his wolf urged him to turn back around. “You said you wanted me to be kinder to my soon-to-be good-sister. I am doing as you say.”

Tywin's expression did not change but Jaime got the feeling that he was being examined and he was found lacking. “That is commendable.” He walked around his son and sniffed the air. Jaime's stomach tightened. “Have you and Lady Brienne finally made amends?”

“We have,” Jaime paused, trying to come up with the right words. “We have come to an understanding.”

“And what might that be?”

_That I want to fuck her until we are both exhausted and she wants to fuck me as well._ He looked back at Brienne's door. “That we do not have to like each other to be in the same room.” He felt the lie crawl along his skin. He did not know what was exactly happening between them, but he was fairly certain it went beyond mere like at this point. “And as I told Tyrion at supper, I do not wish her ill will. I wanted to make sure she was on the mend.”

Tywin nodded. “Then why did you not knock if you wanted to know how she was? Would not seeing her give you that answer better than walking away?”

Jaime swallowed. “It is late, father. I realized it as I was walking to her door. She has most assuredly retired for the night. I will come again tomorrow to wish her well.” Tywin did not say anything at first. His eyes were steady on his son's. Jaime wanted to escape the stare. It was like his father was reading him as Tyrion read his books. Jaime was not sure what his father was looking for. He could not know about his obsession... right? He looked away from Tywin and cleared his throat. “I believe I will retire for the night as well. Good night, father.”

“Good night, son,” his father said as he turned to leave. He left the Alpha's stare on him until he turned the corner.

He entered his bedchamber and quickly readied for sleep. His body was vibrating with energy. He had never felt this pull towards another person the way he felt it toward Brienne. His wolf was nudging him back to her door. A wave of desire, not just for her body, but also to protect her, came over him. As soon as he had heard that she was ill, he had wanted to leap from his chair and go find her. He wanted to see with his own eyes that she was alright. That it was just a bout of illness that could be quickly recovered from. 

Jaime had never felt that way before for anyone who was not part of his pack, his family. He paced the floor, trying to relieve some of the nervous energy from his body. His mind kept working over one thing: she did not seem ill when they had been pressed against each other. His body reacted quickly to the thought of her so close. His blood rushed south and his mind came up with all the ways he could have had her. 

He pictured her against the wall, panting and begging. Eyes bright with lust and mouth parted. Sweat sliding slowly down her neck to pool in the hollow of her collarbone like it had when he had seen her in the practice yard. He imagined his tongue following the beads of perspiration, tasting her skin. Her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him further. 

Jaime swallowed. He could clearly see the moment in his mind. It was as if it had really happened. He had her taste on his tongue. He remembered the sweetness of her blood. Everything about her was sweet... he wondered if her cunt was as well. He knew her scent when she was aroused. And if that was anything to go on, he would be feasting upon the cloyingly tasty treat he had ever had when he finally got her under him.

He paused in his pacing. He realized he was thinking in absolutes. Like he was sure she would be his to claim one day, but that was foolish. Tyrion would know her in that way. She was promised to his brother. _That_ was an absolute truth. The image in his head changed to Tyrion against her and Jaime's lips curled back. Anger filled his body and he had the real desire to harm his brother for daring to touch her. Jaime shook, running a hand down his face. This was madness! He took several calming breaths but it did nothing to ease his anger at the picture of them together. He had no right to be this rattled at the thought... but he was. 

He climbed in bed and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts. He needed rest. He was obviously ill himself. Even though Maester Pycelle had assured him that he was fine... repeatedly, that just simply could not be the case. Because if he had been healthy, he would not be angry at his brother for _eventually_ doing his duty as Brienne's Lord Husband. He would be happy for them. He would not want to claw and fight and claim. He would not picture taking her far away from his younger sibling and hiding her so only he could have her. 

These were the thoughts of a sick man. And thoughts he found reprehensible. He loved his brother. Had always protected him from predators, both in the woods and out of them. He would never wish harm on him if he was in his right mind. 

He rolled onto his side, closing his eyes tightly. He fought with his mind to erase all the madness. A new image appeared behind his eyelids. One he had had many times before in the last few days. Brienne standing in the woods wearing a white gown, her hair hanging down her back, her blue eyes shining in the stream of sunlight coming through the leaves. Her hands were outstretched, reaching for him. He eased closer. His steps measured. He bowed his head as her hand ran through his fur. She knelt on the ground and nuzzled her face into his body... the wolf's body. 

Her body was warm and she held him close, petting him, caressing him. She pulled back and smiled. “I see you, Jaime. I know you. All of you.” She pressed close again. Her mouth close to his ear. “I want you.”

This was the wolf's fantasy. This dream calmed him down. It was not filled with lust and desire. It was quiet and soft. It was about acceptance. Jaime opened his eyes again, rolling onto his back. He could deny many things, but he could not deny that he wanted that to be real. He wanted her to want him, the man and him, the wolf. He wanted her to want them both- to need them both. 

Jaime sat up and groaned. He was not going to get any sleep with his mind racing as it was. He got up and walked over to the wardrobe. He pulled out some breeches and a light tunic. If he was not going to sleep, he may as well train. He walked swiftly out of the castle and into the practice yard. He stopped at the sounds of another there. He inhaled and grinned. She was not so ill after all. He walked the final steps into the yard and watched.

He stood completely still to take in how she looked. Her tunic was light but snug as she moved with the sword. She was dressed in leather breeches that hugged her hips and conformed nicely to her ass. It was the first time he had saw her out of a dress... and not in just her smallclothes. He found himself getting hard. Her pants showed off what the Gods had given her and they had been very generous. Long legs he wanted wrapped around him. A firm, rounded ass he wanted to hold and grab. Blue eyes he wanted to get lost in. 

Walking into the yard silently, he slipped into the armory and grabbed a tourney sword from the wall. She saw him walking out on a spin. Her mouth dropped open and she went suddenly still. He continued to stroll in her direction. She looked around her quickly, her large eyes wider than normal when they returned to his. He twirled the sword in his hand, smiling at her. 

“Care for this dance, My Lady,” he said already circling her.

She continued to stand still, her heart pounding. He could hear it racing and it excited him. He inhaled, taking her in. Brienne held her sword, clutching it tightly. “I thought everyone would be asleep,” she finally said, her voice soft and unsure.

“And I thought you were ill,” he stopped moving and came to stand in front of her. Her eyes dropped from his and she gnawed at the flesh of her bottom lip. Blood bloomed where she bit a little to aggressively. He reached out on instinct and gently pulled her lip free. “I came to your room earlier to see if you were feeling better. I am glad you are, Lady Brienne.”

“It was just a touch of illness,” she held herself away from him, moving her face away from his touch. He dropped his hand to his side. Her reactions were confusing him. He could tell she was attracted. Her cheeks were flushing. Her heartbeat was erratic. There was a hint of arousal in the air. But she was being cold with him. “I am feeling much more myself.”

“I am relieved to hear that.” He took a step closer to her and she inhaled sharply, taking one back. “Lady Brienne?”

“We should not be alone, My Lord,” she said looking around again as if expecting someone to come out of the shadows. “The way we acted before was improper and I am sorry for my part in it. I should have walked away. I am promised to your brother and being so close to you was not the action of a Lady.”

“I seem to remember being the one to touch you, Lady Brienne,” he watched as she continued to look around. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“What? No!” Brienne exclaimed with a shake of her head. “I just... I was reminded of how a lady should act and I know that I have not been doing as I should since I have arrived here. I should never have swam in only my smallclothes-”

“You thought you were alone,” he interrupted. His confusion growing with each statement from her. This was not the woman he had come to know. He was getting annoyed. Why was she pulling away? They had done nothing... well almost nothing. “I startled you and I can not say I acted as a gentleman should have. You have done nothing to be ashamed of.”

Brienne flushed deeper. And her heart sped up again. “That is not true,” she mumbled, but he heard her clearly. He got another whiff of her arousal and his body tightened again. “I am afraid I have done more than you realize.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “I do not wish to hurt your brother, My Lord. This union is important and I can not do anything that will put it in jeopardy. Lord Tyrion has been kind to me. Being alone with you is a betrayal and a mistake. We were right to stay away from each other.”

“I only asked for a dance,” he felt his stomach lurch and his heart drop. She was running from him. He could not let that happen. He knew she was speaking the truth. Tyrion would be the one to get hurt, but his body and wolf needed to be closer to her. “A simple fight. Mayhaps with a wager.”

“I do not think that would be a good idea,” she said with caution.

He smirked, “I understand, Lady Brienne.” Jaime moved a step closer and this time she did not move. Her eyes were brighter than before. “You believe you can not win. I am a great fighter and not even the best have bested _me_.” Her eyes narrowed at him and her mouth tightened. “It was foolish of me to suggest a fight with you.” He stepped back and waved the arm not holding the sword out. “I will let you get back to practicing. I think you need it more than I.”

Jaime turned back to the armory and counted in his head, waiting. He did not have to wait long before... 

“Wait!” She exclaimed. Her voice was hot and he grinned to himself, wiping the expression from his face as he turned back around toward her. “I do not think you will best me as easily as you believe, _Ser_ Jaime.” She stomped over to him, her eyes alive. _This is the woman I know_ he thought with glee. “What is it you request of me _if_ you win?”

“Nothing much,” he replied. “A ride perhaps... a swim in the lake? I shall think of a place you have not been. I do know how much you love exploring.”

Her cheeks flushed again. “And when I win?”

“You get to choose your terms, My Lady?”

She thought for a moment. He could see her struggle to come up with something, finally she said, “If I win, you leave me be.”

The wolf under his skin snarled at that. _No,_ he thought, even as he nodded. _I can not do that, My Lady. So I can not let you win._ He held his hand out and waited for her to take it. She hesitated then wrapped her long fingers around his. A bolt of sensation tore through him and he became even more determined to win on this night. “Agreed, Lady Brienne,” he shook her hand.

They let go and took their positions. He knew he would be cheating. He was going to use all of his senses to win. The game started slowly. Each waiting for the other to make the first move. He watched her feet, her hips, the set of her shoulders, her eyes. Every part of her told a story, gave her intentions away. She swung left, he easily blocked and pushed back. She spun to the right, he followed her. Their swords clashed together. Metal sliding against metal, a lover's kiss. They shared a smile. Both were feeling the adrenaline rushing through them. 

She pushed hard and they broke apart, beginning to circle again. “I thought you would be better,” she said with a bored tone. Her eyes told him of her excitement though.

“I am simply getting warmed up, My Lady,” he smirked and came forward. “I do not want the game to end so quickly when I can savor our dance.”

“I think you talk about your greatness too much,” she blocked his parry and started coming back at him. “Being cocksure does not mean one is good.”

“You should take your own words to heart,” he returned, managing to pin her to the wall. He leaned in close. “I seem to have the upper hand.” 

She surprised him with a quick jab to the ribs and escaped. “Do not be so sure.” 

They continued to fight. He was impressed with her talent. What she lacked in proper training, she made up for in heart and strength. He still had tricks up his sleeve though. He let her believe she had him and then shocked her with some speed. He swung high, to the side, low, quick, fast, sharp. She could barely keep up and he kept coming. She slid to the right and he spun to chase. His blood was singing. His mind was blank except for the desire to win. He wanted this. He wanted this more than he had wanted to win any tourney he had ever entered. This had the highest of stakes and he could not lose. He _would_ not lose. Brienne tripped on a pebble and started to fall. He reached out just as she was about to hit the ground, catching her. She looked up at him, he down at her. He wanted to kiss her. His body demanded it.

He eased her to the ground and straddled her hips. She was too shocked to react right away and he took advantage. He leaned into her, placed his lips against the shell of her ear. “Do you yield, My Lady?”

Jaime felt her shiver, heard her swallow and knew he had her. “I yield,” she said softly.

The words sounded loud in his head and the wolf howled toward the moon. He looked back into her eyes. She did not look defeated, she looked scared and wanton. He touched the side of her face, brushing some hair from her cheek. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply for the second time that night. 

The night air was filled with them. He was assaulted with all the scents. Hers, his, theirs mixed together. It was intoxicating. Jaime was sure she could sense it too, even if she did not have his sense of smell. She knew how much they wanted each other. 

“Lady Brienne,” she looked up at him. He bent low, their lips a breath from touching. They were sharing the same air and he was about to close the distance when she pushed hard against him. He rocked back giving her enough space to slide out from under him. 

She stood quickly, brushing the dirt from her pants. “You have won, Ser Jaime. What is it you wish from me?”

He bit his lip to keep from saying what he really wanted. He knew he was not going to get that... at least not yet. She was quickly shutting down again. He could see the openness on her face vanishing swiftly. “A ride in the woods,” he said. She stopped fidgeting and stared at him. “I wish to show you the Westerlands. I have heard from others that you would like to know your temporary home.”

“I would,” she acknowledged. “You do not mind showing me around? Do you not have better things to do?”

“No,” he shrugged. “I love to ride and you owe me my bounty.”

“I do not see how riding with me is much of a reward,” she wondered out loud. “But I accept.” She looked up at the sky and sighed. “I should try and get some sleep. Thank you for the battle, My Lord.”

She walked away from him and he watched her every step. She was a fool if she did not realize that the reward he truly sought was much more pleasurable than a mere ride through the woods. But he would start slow... mayhaps the madness would pass and nothing would happen between them, but he was not willing to place a wager down on _that_.

+-+-+-+

Tyrion watched Brienne's interactions with the Septa more closely in the following sennights. Brienne grew more and more tense, avoiding Jaime at a greater amount. Her eyes rarely reached above the floor and she was always on her guard. Tyrion tried to catch her alone, but she would always back away, her eyes shifting around. Tysha had noticed the same and had filled him in on more that he was not privy to.

“She is telling Lady Brienne some awful stuff, M'Lord.”

“Such as,” he leaned forward. 

“That she is a lackwit and will make you an awful bride.” Tysha looked horrified and upset. “She has also said that Lord Jaime would only use her. I don't know what that is about, M'Lord. They stopped talking when I came in.”

Tyrion leaned back and clasped his hands together. He had a pretty good idea what the Septa meant to say. It was becoming clear to all in the castle that Jaime had deep feelings for Maid of Tarth. The bonding scent was strong. All the wolves recognized it, knew what it meant. Their father especially was taking notice. Jaime seemed to be the only one, other than Brienne herself, who was still oblivious. Jaime complained to him about the change in her and even spoke of a ride that they were supposed to take, but had not yet.

_“That Septa does not let her breathe,” his brother had huffed. “She can not get a moment alone.”_

Tyrion did not say anything to that. His brother was a smart man, but had never been one for learning, not even about mating or bonding. He enjoyed running and jumping. Tyrion was expecting a meeting with his father soon about the betrothal between Lady Brienne and himself. He was surprised it had not already happened. The Septa must have noticed the change as well. 

One day, he walked in on Brienne standing alone in the library staring at the family sword and quickly seized the opportunity. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the younger woman. “My Lady,” she turned swiftly.

“Lord Tyrion,” she looked at the closed door and started biting at her lip. “How are you this midday?”

“Quite well,” he nodded. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “I am well also.” She turned back to the sword, a flush starting to bloom on her cheeks. “Your family's blade is beautiful.”

“Yes,” he sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for her to do the same. “My Uncle Gerion searched for it. It had been lost for many years- a century. He found it and brought it back to us. He died young but he was proud to have completed his quest... or so said the story.”

“Do you know who wielded it?”

“The Lannister kings of old.” Tyrion smiled. “King Tommen and King Lancel.” He tilted his head. “Lady Brienne, I have some concerns I wish to discuss with you.”

“What is that, Lord Tyrion?”

“It is about your Septa.” He saw her tense up immediately. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “She is not very kind to you, is she?”

“She can be harsher than some,” Brienne hedged. “But I know I could have had it worse. She has the best of intentions toward me and my island.”

He pursed his lips in thought. “Has she ever harmed you?” Brienne shifted again. “Belittled you?” Her eyes dropped to the ground. “Treated you as if you are a lackwit?” Her body folded in on itself. “Lady Brienne,” he waited until she finally looked at him again. “You do not have to take that treatment. She is employed by your father. She answers to you.”

“It is not that simple,” she said in a whisper. “What she does... I learned how to act like a proper lady by her hand. She has guided me to be true.”

“Would you wish her guidance on our children?”

Her head rose sharply and her eyes flashed. “No. I would not.”

The door opened and they both turned to look. The Septa walked into the room and Brienne started to rise. Tyrion growled under his breath and quickly got up. “I do not believe you were invited in, Septa Roelle. We are having a private conversation and I ask you to leave.”

The older woman turned sharp eyes toward Brienne. So this was the game. Tyrion moved closer to the Septa and spoke in clear terms. “Leave us be,” the low rumble of his voice made her jump. “If we require your assistance we will call for you. As we do not at the moment, I demand you leave me with my intended.”

Brienne inhaled sharply behind him. He could feel the unease radiating off of her, but she said clearly. “Leave us.”

The Septa glared at Brienne and would not meet Tyrion's eyes. She left them with a hard clap of the door. Tyrion turned to Brienne. She was shaking slightly. “You do not have to take that treatment. You are to be a Lannister and a lioness. She should bow to you and beg to guide our children, which will not happen. She will be dismissed.” He took her hands in his. “You are not a lackwit, My Lady. You are kind and generous and I am proud to be your betrothed.” _For however long that will be._ He added silently. “Know your strength, Lady Brienne.”

She nodded. Her eyes were still stormy but he hoped that she took his advice.

+-+-+-+

Jaime was beyond irritated. He walked through the castle more angry than he had been in years. Brienne was nowhere to be found and he had yet to get his reward for winning the fight. Every time he got close to her, she would scurry away. It was a hunt. He used all his senses, searching her out. He and his wolf thought it was a game at first. A way to prolong the sweet torture of attraction. He enjoyed it. It was thrilling to hunt her down. He dreamed at night of finally catching her and pinning her underneath him.

After the first sennight, he had realized it was not simply a game. She was running from him. Putting as much distance as she could between them. And that Septa! He growled thinking about that woman. That pinch faced hag was making it even more difficult. She was always at Brienne's side. Her accusing eyes narrowing every time he approached. She would clasp a hand under Brienne's arm and take her away. He thought that he had seen Brienne wince at one point. As time wore on, Jaime became increasingly aware that something was happening.

And whatever it was, he was furious! His blood was running hotter and hotter the closer they got to the full moon which was only two nights from now. He stormed into Tyrion's bedchamber. His brother looked up at him, his mismatched eyes barely widening at the interruption.

“Yes, dear brother,” he said in a bored tone.

“What is going on with Lady Brienne?”

Tyrion's eyebrows shot up. “I would have thought you would ease into that question.” At Jaime's snarl, he held up his hands. “She has been dealing with some issues.” Jaime snapped his teeth. “Jaime calm down!” He took deep breaths and sat down on the edge of his brother's bed. “Have you noticed how Septa Roelle is with her?”

“Yes,” Jaime nodded. He was trying to not snap again. “She has been stopping Lady Brienne for seeing me at every turn.”

“I hope you are not only seeing her behavior as horrible only because of the way it affects you,” Tyrion rolled his eyes. “She has been mentally abusing Lady Brienne for years. It seems seeing you with the Maid of Tarth has made it even worse.” Jaime sagged. “Congratulations, dear brother.”

“I know that Lady Brienne does not like her but-”

“You can be very focused, Jaime.” His brother said. “She has been calling her names such as lackwit and ugly her entire life. She has used physical punishments to reinforce those feelings of worthlessness. How could you not notice?”

“She has never said anything to me.”

“Of course not, you fool!” Tyrion exclaimed. “She has been conditioned to keep it to herself. And as someone who has faced more cruel comments than flattering ones, I can tell you that it stays with you.”

Jaime thought back to that day in the marketplace when the Septa had laughed at his comment about her scent and how she had flushed. He had taken her reaction to be anger, but mayhaps it was embarrassment at the Septa laughing at her as well... His mind turned to the moment in the library and how Brienne's eyes had changed at seeing the woman standing there. Her body had tightened and her eyes had gotten wide. And he had taken the reaction for embarrassment at being caught with another man. But maybe...

That was also the night she had lied about having an illness to get out of supper. She had tried to run away from him in the practice yard... “That night she said she was ill...”

“Tysha caught Septa Roelle yelling at her,” Tyrion supplied. “She has been watching for me and I have been watching as well. That night I knew something was happening. As time has moved, I have seen how bad it truly is. Lady Brienne is a strong person to endure what she had and still stay a kind individual.”

“Why would she take that treatment if it is as bad as you say?” Jaime got up from the bed. His mind running over everything. “She has no problem telling me what to do.”

Tyrion laughed, “Well that's because you can be an ass, dear brother.” At Jaime's look, Tyrion stifled his chuckle. “Septa Roelle has been with Brienne since she was a babe. It is hard to break free from that kind of treatment when it is all you have known. I have spoken with my intended and I have given her some advice. I have told her that she does not deserve to be treated in that manner by a servant and that she will be dismissed when we wed.” Jaime tried not to snap and snarl at that comment. “But I am not the one employing the Septa. Lady Brienne has to be the one to stand up to her.”

“Do you think she will?”

“I do not know,” Tyrion sighed. “I know that she wants to. She has been making comments about it since she arrived at Casterly Rock.” His brother looked up at him and said, “I do wish to know why Septa Roelle keeping Lady Brienne from you is such a problem, Jaime. I know you two have made amends but... is there something you would like to tell me? About you and my betrothed?”

Jaime shut his mouth. He did not know what to say. How was he going to explain that every night he dreamed of taking his brother's intended to bed and marking her not just with his teeth, but with his scent? How could he say that he wished his brother would find someone else because Lady Brienne was his? How did he tell him that the wolf resting in his body wanted to drag her away and kill anyone that came between them?

How could he do that to his brother? And yet... he would. If given the chance, he would take Brienne to his bed and fuck her, claim her, own her. He would show his fangs to anyone who dared to take her from him. He would even throw his own brother out. It disgusted him how he would act with his own kin given the chance. The thoughts running through his mind. He loved his brother. He wanted only the best for Tyrion... but he wanted Brienne more.

It was a curse that the werewolf's sex drive increased the closer the full moon got. It made male wolves angry and female wolves possessive. Jaime had never had a problem curbing those emotions, but that was before. Before her. Before her scent. Now he understood the heat that blazed through most males of his species. He knew it and he knew that there was only one way to quench the thirst. He needed to bed her, lock her in his private world until the full moon passed and they were both sated. 

Jaime turned to Tyrion and shook his head, “No, dear brother.” The lie tasted like poison. “There is nothing to say.” By the look on Tyrion's face, he could tell he did not believe him.

+-+-+-+

Brienne walked through the garden. Her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. Every moment she had to herself, which was not many since Septa Roelle was even more watchful of her, was spent thinking. It was not a pastime she enjoyed. Thinking meant confronting things she wished to keep locked away. Tyrion's words about Septa Roelle rang in her ears. Over and over, louder and louder. She heard how she should be treated and how she should not be. She heard him say she would be a lioness. She heard him ask her if she was willing to let this woman help take care of her own babes. 

That was not a future she wanted for her children. Septa Roelle was harsh and cruel. She had used words to cut and physical punishments as an added way of keeping her in line. When she had been just a child, she had come in from running with a local boy- just a kind little boy who had wanted to play- and Septa Roelle had been furious. She had pulled her into her bedchamber by her arm, yanking violently. Roelle had belittled her for ruining her dress, for playing with a peasant as if she was a commoner, for being too much of a wayward child. Tears had not stopped the berating, if anything they had fed her anger. 

If she did poorly with her needlepoint, she would have her knuckles cracked, one time to the point it broke the skin. Her father had been concerned at some of the treatments. He had raged at the Septa at times, telling her that if he found another bruise on Brienne's body she would be out on the streets. Septa Roelle had been better and then got worse. She learned where to pinch to keep it hidden from his view. The tender skin of her upper arms had been often covered with bloody crescents. 

The older Brienne got the less physical she became. Brienne outweighed her and was taller than her. That's when the mental torture became her weapon of choice. Words were well placed to harm and keep her quiet. The click of her tongue was her warning. At times, Brienne got enough courage to fight back- like in the carriage on the way to Casterly Rock or in Lannisport, but those moments were few and far between. Brienne did not know how to be strong against her all the time. 

Years have taught her to be the opposite. She sat by the water fountain and ran her fingers through the cool water. The problems with Septa Roelle were not the only thing weighing on her mind... she missed Jaime. Against all odds and reason, she missed him. They have been so close and yet so far apart. Septa Roelle has played a part in that as well. This was for her own good. She was meant for his brother. Not him. And she should remember that.

“Well,” she turned toward the voice of her Septa. “At least you are alone. I thought I would find you with that Lord Jaime Lannister when you were not in your chambers.”

“Why were you in my chambers?” Brienne asked, annoyance making her muscles tense.

“You are not wed yet and I have managed to find you with both the Lannister men alone.” She clicked her tongue. “I do not know what has happened to you. You used to have honor and morals!”

“I still do,” Brienne exclaimed. “I have not done anything improper.”

“I should tell Lord Tywin and Lord Selwyn to have you examined before your wedding to make sure.” Her brown eyes looked Brienne over sharply. “I heard about you swimming and Lord Jaime finding you.”

Brienne's mouth dropped open, “How...”

“You told that silly handmaiden and I was but a few steps away. Caught swimming in your smallclothes?” The look in her eyes burned through Brienne and made her feel even more ashamed. “He has seen you and that _is improper!_”

“I want you gone,” she whispered.

“What!” Septa Roelle got closer to her.

“I said, I am dismissing you from your duties.” Brienne's breathing was coming fast and hard. Her heart was thundering in her chest. “I do not need you here. I will send my father a raven tomorrow morn and you can leave once you have packed your belongings.”

“When you have children...”

“You will never be apart of my children's lives. Or any child's life if I can help it. You will not do to another as you have done to me!”

“You think you would have been half the _woman_ you are if it was not for my guidance?”

“Your guidance?” Brienne stepped closer. “It nearly broke me. I am the woman I am now despite you. Not because of you. Lord Tyrion was right. I do not need to be treated this way by the likes of you.”

She spun around and Septa Roelle called out, “You think he will love you? You think either of them will?” Brienne turned to face her again. “Now that I am not in your employment I shall tell you the truth as you need to hear it. You will never be loved. Lord Tyrion, the dwarf monster, loves another. Your handmaiden is more desirable than you. And Lord Jaime, he has loved only his sister. You are a distraction.”

Brienne's heart broke and she felt the tears gather in her throat. She swallowed them down. “That may be true. But it does not change the fact that I will be Lady Lannister and you are without a livehood.”

She turned again, took a few steps and that's when she felt it. A hard hit to the back of her head. Brienne felt dazed from the blow. Her hand reached back and felt the warmth on her fingers. She pulled them back and saw red coating her skin. She looked down at the rock with her blood on it then back at her Septa...who was screaming with a wolf on her back.

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Jaime prowled the woods with his brother and father. He smelt the air and turned back to the castle. Tyrion and Tywin stared at him for a moment. A look passed between the pack as Jaime took off for the gardens. He had smelt her. Brienne. She was close. He ran toward her scent. The closer he got the more he could sense her. He slipped into the family gardens, quietly making his way toward her.

He saw her standing rigidly as she spoke with that horrible Septa. He kept to the shadows, bending low. His ears were twitching back and forth, listening to the two of them argue. Brienne was near tears. She was holding the middle of her body as if protecting herself from the words thrown her way. 

“You think you would have been half the _woman_ you are if it was not for my guidance?” Septa Roelle spat the words at the younger woman.

Brienne stood tall. She pushed her shoulders back and he felt proud of her. “Your guidance?” She moved closer to the bitter old hag. “It nearly broke me. I am the woman I am now despite you. Not because of you. Lord Tyrion was right. I do not need to be treated this way by the likes of you.”

Jaime's tail thumped on the ground. He could tell how much she was struggling. Her heart was pounding and her gorgeous eyes were glistening. But she was not backing down. Jaime wanted to run over to her, but he stayed still. He continued to listen. His blood getting hotter. Brienne turned to go. She was finished with this woman, but the Septa was not finished with her.

“You think he will love you? You think either of them will?” Brienne turned back. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands were trembling. “Now that I am not in your employment I shall tell you the truth as you need to hear it. You will never be loved. Lord Tyrion, the dwarf monster, loves another. Your handmaiden is more desirable than you. And Lord Jaime, he has loved only his sister. You are a distraction.”

Jaime growled low. He bared his teeth at her comments. About Brienne. About Tyrion. About him. He moved closer to the two women. His lips rolling back to show his fangs, his jaw was tense. 

Brienne shook harder. Her face showed her devastation. Jaime's heart broke. It was not true. She was not a distraction to him. She was all he could think about. He was willing to take her from his brother without thought. Septa Roelle was not going to lie about him. She would pay for her words. A Lannister always paid their debts.

Brienne finally spoke with quiet words. “That may be true. But it does not change the fact that I will be Lady Lannister and you are without a livehood.”

Once again she turned to go. Septa Roelle looked around her and grabbed a loose rock from the ground. She rushed at Brienne. Her intent clear. Jaime started running at her. His brain filled with rage. His vision going almost red. She hit Brienne with the rock, just as he reached her.

His jaw locked on her shoulder, dragging her to the ground. She screamed in terror as he unlatched his jaw and bit again, this time closer to her neck. The older woman tried to get away but he was of one mind with the wolf. They wanted vengeance for what she had done. He snapped his mouth around her neck, his fangs catching her vein. Blood gushed into his mouth. It tasted like poison. It was almost as if the taste of her blood reflected her soul. His next bite was against the tiny bones in her throat. He thrashed his head from side to side, hearing them crack and break. Her skull hit the stone ground. Blood covered his fur. 

Jaime knew that she was dead, but he couldn't let go. This woman had hurt Brienne. She had called Tyrion a monster and had reduced his feeling for Brienne to a distraction. He let out a yelp at the sudden pain in his shoulder. He dislodged his mouth from the corpse to look over and see what had happened. Brienne was holding a dagger, covered in his blood.

Her eyes were wide with fear. They continued to look at each other for a long time. Her body was shaking and he realized that she was crying. He started to walk over to her and she backed up, keeping the dagger out in front of her. Jaime stopped moving and she moved over the body, her hands were trembling.

“No, no, no, please, no,” she pressed her hand against the Septa's chest. “Why? Why did you...?” She turned toward him with tears streaming down her face, her shock evident. Her eyes were haunted by what she had seen. “Go!” She waved the dagger at him. Brienne's voice was trembling with fear, but was loud and hysterical. He wanted to comfort her but he knew she would not understand. “Go!”

Jaime turned and ran back into the woods. He made it to the river and looked at his reflection. His fur was covered in blood, the Septa's blood and his. He dove into the water to rid himself of the thick red liquid. He climbed out of the river and shook the water from his fur. The pain in his shoulder was making him limp a little. He curled on the ground and waited out the moon. 

Once the sun was up, he would have to face what he had done. He had killed a human. Jaime knew it was justified, but would Brienne be able to get over what she had seen him do? She had seen his most violent impulses unleashed. He worried that he had lost any chance with her he may have had. But... He would do it again... If it meant saving her... He would do it again.

Jaime whimpered. She might never be his now. He closed his eyes. Her face appeared, frightened with tears streaming down. Yes, he would do it again. She was worth it.

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Tywin watched it all from his spot in the darkness. He heard it all. That woman deserved her death. Brienne rose to her feet and ran back into the castle. Tywin closed his eyes and slowly forced his body back into his human form. He slipped through the secret tunnel under the castle and grabbed some clothes that the servants have left for him. He walked up the stairs toward Brienne's bedchamber. He heard her shifting around, the scratch of a quill on parchment. 

He knocked on the door. She paused. Her breathing was loud to him. She was terrified. A moment passed then another. Finally she opened the door. Brienne's hands and dress were covered in blood. Her eyes were wide with shock and she was trembling. 

“Lord Tywin,” her voice was weak.

“Lady Brienne,” he pointed to her room. “May I come in?” She nodded and opened the door wider. He stood in the middle of her room and turned to face her. “Lady Brienne, I feel we need to talk.”

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	5. Truth Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Brienne could not stop shaking. Every part of her was quivering because of the scene she had witnessed. The wolf from just a moon ago had killed her Septa... Septa Roelle was dead. Her hands sunk into the warm red pool beneath her. It was thick and covered her skin. She gagged at the strong smell of copper. Her eyes glanced quickly up at the face of her Septa. The brown eyes that had been so accusing and cruel were blank and staring up at the sky. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support! All the kudos and comments give me fuel to continue. Thank you again. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know...
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, merrymaya. She is always there to help me when I need it and encourage me to push myself a little more. And for the beautiful banners that are so special. Also please go check out her stories! They are brilliant and very unique. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299276/chapters/48121996 and https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495738/chapters/48638486 )
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work. I absolutely adore it! She also has an amazing story! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500058/chapters/48649883 )

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/dateposted/)

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Brienne could not stop shaking. Every part of her was quivering because of the scene she had witnessed. The wolf from just a moon ago had killed her Septa... Septa Roelle was dead. Her hands sunk into the warm red pool beneath her. It was thick and covered her skin. She gagged at the strong smell of copper. Her eyes glanced quickly up at the face of her Septa. The brown eyes that had been so accusing and cruel were blank and staring up at the sky. She carefully removed her hand from the puddle of blood and slid her palm down her eyes, closing the lids. 

Smears of her blood followed Brienne's touch, lines of death marking her mature skin and Brienne nearly vomited again. She looked around her, trying to sense if danger was still lurking. She did not know what to do. She did not know if the wolf would come back and she really did not want to be there when and if it did. She stood quickly and broke into a run for the castle doors. She needed to write to her father and explain what had happened... She needed to get away from the gruesome display of animal violence. She needed to cleanse her mind and body of the death she was covered in... Her dress was sticking to her in uncomfortable ways. The blood making the material stiff. She swallowed the bile burning her throat.

Casterly Rock was nearly silent as she made her way up the stairs toward her chamber. She pushed herself to move as quickly as possible even though her lungs were burning from running so hard. She did not know what she would do once she was in the safety of her bedchamber, but she did know one thing, she wished Jaime was with her. It was such a stupid, silly thought. And one she should have been ashamed of. Brienne should have thought of Tyrion. She should have wanted her betrothed to comfort her, but she did not. She wanted Jaime's strong arms to wrap tightly around her and to stop her from quaking. She wanted his dark fragrance to surround her. The one that made her weak and gave her solace. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright. Her insides jumped. _Stupid girl!_ The voice of her Septa haunted her. _He will never want you. He has only loved his sister._ Stop! Brienne needed the thoughts to stop. 

Her tears started falling again. The first wave of shock gave way to another. Brienne opened her chamber door and slammed it shut behind her. She doubled over and sobbed, her vision completely clouded with the overflow of tears. She broke down in confused agony. She should not feel this emotional about her Septa. That woman had been cruel and had tried to harm her, but she was still a person that Brienne had known all her life. She had grown up with that woman in her home every day. She did not like Septa Roelle but she also would not have wished death upon her. The woman had been vicious with her words and actions and now she was dead.

Those lifeless eyes... all that red gore... Her mind started racing, forming half-thoughts that were chased by others. Nothing was solidified enough for her to latch onto. It was a mess of questions and worries and wants and heartbreak. And at the center of it all was the wolf. Away from the massacre, she could think- even if just barely- about why an animal would kill without being provoked. She thought about the way his green eyes had held hers after she stabbed him. Through all her fear, she had recognized an intelligence in those emerald orbs.

And that confused her all over again. How could a wild wolf feel something for her? _He left when you told him to go._ A voice reminded her. She shook her head. She was obviously descending into madness- or maybe she was growing madder than she already was. She walked over to the writing-table and pulled some parchment out of the drawer and sat down. She had to send a raven to her father. She had to tell him of Septa Roelle's death. Brienne dipped the quill into the ink and held it above the page. Her eyes caught sight of the drying blood on her hands. It had seeped into the creases of her skin, a sickening glove of the darkest red. She swallowed harshly. Her mind fracturing into pieces. Like warring tribes, thoughts battled for prominence. She needed to wash herself. She needed to write to her father. She needed to find someone and explain what happened. She needed to run and hide. She needed to find the nearest boat and return to the safety of her island in the Narrow Sea. She needed to stop shaking. She needed to stop crying.

She needed... 

Brienne struggled to find a balance in all the chaos. She looked down at the parchment again. Her father... She did not know how to begin. What words could she use to explain all that has happened? Did she tell the whole truth about how her Septa had tried to harm her? Did she write about dismissing Septa Roelle from her duties? Did she tell him about the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the woman meant to guide her? She knew that if her father knew the whole truth, he would hate himself and that was one thing she did not want. 

He was a wonderful father. She knew he should have protected her from Septa Roelle but he had tried his best and gave her the world. Grief over his son's death had pulled him away from her and with that distance, Septa Roelle had taken advantage. She had snuck in under his defenses and when her place was established, he had chosen to be blind. Brienne knew she could live her life in bitter anger, stew over all the pain, but she did not want to. She loved her father and Selwyn loved her. 

Taking a deep breath to try to calm her fraying mind, she placed the quill to the parchment and began to write:

_Dearest Father,_

_I have some news I need to share with you and I have spent many moments trying to formulate what to say. There has been a horrible accident here. I need to stress, dear father, I have not been hurt, but..._

She paused in her writing at the knock on the door. She looked up, biting her lip. Her barely calmed emotions flared to life again and the fear only starting to ebb away ignited again. Her breathing was coming in harsh, short gasps. She knew the wolf would not be at her door, that was foolish, but her stomach dropped to the ground all the same. 

Brienne waited. She hoped whoever it was would leave. She did not want to face anyone at the moment, especially covered in another person's blood. The shadow under her door told her the person was not leaving and she got the distinct impression they were not planning to. She stood on shaky legs like a newborn fawn and slowly made her way to the door. She held the metal knob in her hand, gathering courage from deep inside and turned it to open the barrier between her and the other individual up. 

Tywin Lannister stood there. His pale eyes flicking over her appearance quickly. She swallowed roughly around the knot of unease in her throat. Her entire body was back to quaking in fear. Did he know already? What if he blamed her for the attack? It was her Septa. They were arguing. Oh Gods! She was not making sense! Her mind was back to being a jumbled mess of confusion. 

She opened her mouth and said weakly, “Lord Tywin.”

The patriarch of the Lannister family nodded briefly, the tiniest of gestures. “Lady Brienne.” He pointed to her room. “May I come in?”

Brienne thought about saying no. It was a quick thought that flew in and out of her mind. She could not deny this man. He was her soon-to-be good-father and he was Lord of the castle she was currently residing in... He had the power and she was smart to remember that. Septa Roelle had been wrong in a lot of what she said, but on this subject she had been correct. She nodded, bowing her head and opened the door wider. He stepped over the threshold and she closed the door behind him. Turning back she was faced with one of the most intimidating men she had ever met. Her stomach knotted up and she picked at the crusted, rust-colored blood around her nails. Flakes of Septa Roelle's blood fell at her feet and Brienne suddenly felt sick all over again.

Tywin placed a pouch down on the small end table next to the partition she changed behind and stared at her. She felt the steady gaze burning into her and closed her eyes for just a moment before meeting his look. His face was devoid of emotion. A stone mask, smooth and in control. She wondered if she would ever be able to have that type of presence and then quickly dismissed the idea. Her emotions were always reflected on her face. She was not able to keep the blood from rushing into her cheeks or her mouth from tightening. She was as transparent as a windowpane. 

“Lady Brienne,” He said with a stern voice. “I feel that we need to talk.”

“I can explain, the blood, there was, I...” He held his hand up and she stopped the stream of senseless words.

“I think you need to know one thing first,” he clasped his hands behind his back. “I know what happened to your Septa and I know who did it... and why.”

“It was a wolf,” she told him. Her limbs and mind were going numb. Was this another wave of shock? “It was not a person.”

“See, Lady Brienne,” he took two steps in her direction slowly. “That's where you are wrong.”

Brienne heard the words, but she did not understand the meaning. At least, not yet.

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Tywin helped her sit down on the chair in front of the writing-table. Her face had gone even paler and he could see her starting to sway. This was going to be a lot to take in and it was not the way he had wanted to tell her the truth. He would have preferred to wait at least another moon. After he had broken the news to Tyrion that his betrothal to the young maid would not take place. From the way his youngest son looked at Lady Brienne's handmaiden, he did not think it would be devastating to him. Tyrion's love life, while not as paramount as Jaime's at the moment, was of concern as well. Lannister men did not wed commoners.

He had kept his mouth shut and had not done as he should- get rid of the silly girl- because a little part of him did care about his son. Still, she was not of the right breeding and that would have to be addressed. Now though, he had to deal with the dizzy woman who had been through a very traumatic experience thanks to Jaime. He stood back and grabbed a second chair situated near the window. Tywin pursed his lips as she stared at him, her blue eyes slightly hazy.

“What do you mean when you say that I am wrong, My Lord,” Brienne continued picking at the blood around her nails. Her actions completely unconscious. “I saw the wolf attack Septa Roelle. I was the only other person in the gardens.” 

“The wolf,” he started, “was a Lannister.” Her expression clouded. She did not believe him and he could not blame her for that. “There is a lot about the ruling houses many do not know. The Starks in Winterfell, the Tyrells of Highgarden, the Baratheons of your own Stormlands, and the like... all of us are werewolves.” He probably should have started by easing her into the topic, but he simply did not have the patience for such an act. “For generations, we have ruled both our keeps and our woods. We have traded being kings and queens and have married within ourselves to keep our heritage pure.”

“I am not a wolf,” she mumbled, confused and latching onto the one truth she knew for sure. “I am a simple islander.”

“With past kings in your lineage,” he reminded her. “Not all ruling nobles stayed true to marrying within their own kind. The Tarths have diluted their werewolf blood for generations, I suspect that you still have touches of it flowing in your veins. I was very careful in choosing you, Lady Brienne. Tyrion must have a wife and your island needed our gold. I could have chosen anyone, but I chose you.” Privately he added, _and it seems I made the right choice for the wrong son._ Large blue eyes narrowed and then got wide. 

“I am happy with my betrothal to Lord Tyrion, My Lord.” The words were automatic. A response meant to pacify and he knew she said it not because of it being true, but because it was what was expected of her. Her body language told him that she was not really comprehending all he was saying. It was a story to her, like the dragon masters of old Valyria... _That was another tale for another time,_ he thought ruefully. 

His lips pressed together firmly. “Lying to a wolf is not easy, My Lady.” She ducked her head ashamed and her hands began rubbing together over and over. “You do not believe me.”

“I...” she licked her full lips and pressed her hands into her lap to stop fidgeting. She looked up at him. “I think it is quite a tale, but not one I can believe as truth. Septa Roelle was attacked tonight by a wolf... The moon is full, My Lord. If your fanciful tale is true, would you not be a wolf as well?” The shock was making her tongue loose. He had no doubt that she would not be as open with her thoughts if she was of a clear mind. “I am speaking with you now and I see not a twitch of a tail.”

He was amused by her. The bite of wit was intriguing. No wonder Jaime's wolf mated to her so quickly. “Very well.” 

Tywin stood and watched her closely. Her heartbeat quickened with nerves. He concentrated on shifting his body. Only an Alpha could shift at will. The trait was meant to keep the pack safe, as that was an Alpha's true purpose. He bent low, his bones reforming into his other half. The clothes he was wearing ripping and tearing from his newly formed body. He continued to watch Brienne. Her mouth dropped open and she placed a hand against it. Fear rolled off of her in waves. She leapt from the chair, knocking it over in her haste to get away.

He did not move toward her. This was not about _scaring_ her. It was about _showing_ her. She rushed to the door and he moved swiftly to block her. Her body was trembling again and she was trying to hold in a scream. Tywin saw the fight in her, her mouth opened but no sound emerged. He sat back as she continued to move away from him. She had nowhere to go and was backing further into her room. Her legs hit the edge of her mattress and she climbed up on it, curling into a tight ball with her arms wrapped around her bent knees.

He calmly walked to where he had placed the pouch of clothes on the end table and gathered it in his mouth, carrying them to the partition in the corner of her chamber. He transformed back into a man and dressed quickly, her breathing was coming in short, harsh gasps. When he came back around to face her again, her eyes were darting from the door to him and back. She was trying to decide if he would stop her, harm her, force her to stay. He would not harm her, but he was not going to let her go either. 

“Lady Brienne,” her body tightened and she winced at her name. “We will not hurt you.”

“You...” she gripped her knees harder. “But... who... oh Gods!”

“I understand that this is quite a bit to take in,” her eyes met his. He relaxed his body and released a pheromone to help her calm down. He watched her as she inhaled the saccharine scent: her shoulders fell into a more natural set, her face became laxer and her strong grip loosened. “The events of this night will be dealt with. Your Septa was not a just woman. She hurt you, with words and with violence, am I correct?” She nodded. “The wolf's basic instinct is to protect. He did protect you, Lady Brienne.”

“Who,” she asked again. “Who was it?”

Tywin hesitated. “I do not believe you are ready for that information. Let us just say that it will be dealt with.” He took his seat again. “We will not hurt you, Lady Brienne.” He said the words again because they were important for her to hear. He released the calming pheromone again. “All I ask is that you not divulge our secret. Our pack has ruled the Westerlands for centuries and we stay strong by keeping our true identity a secret from others. It is necessary. If others knew, more blood would be shed- innocent humans and innocent wolves would die.” She nodded to show that she would keep the Lannister secret.

“I want to go home,” she whispered to herself. “I want to return to Tarth.”

“I understand your fear, My Lady,” Brienne turned wet eyes to him. “This news has to be overwhelming for you. The problem is that you are still betrothed to my son. Do you wish to break the contract?” He knew his next words were calculating and underhanded, but it was for the good of his pack- for Jaime. “If that is your intention I must pull back my support of your island. I will send a raven to your father to inform-”

“No,” she responded. She wiped at the tears on her face. Some of the Septa's dried blood clung to the tracks. He stood and dipped a cloth into the nearly empty water basin and brought it to her. She stared at it for a moment before taking the offering. Brienne wiped at her cheeks. “I will stay. I will not tell anyone about your secret. But I must tell my father of Septa Roelle's death.”

“What are you going to say?”

Brienne went back to picking at the dried blood around her nails. “I will tell the truth.” He looked sharply at her, but she was not looking at him. “There was an accident and Septa Roelle met an unfortunate fate. I will not say it was a wolf, just that she was hurt and died from her injuries.” She met his eyes. “You have my word, Lord Tywin. I will not tell anyone what you have told me.” He nodded. She was easy to read and she spoke the truth. “I only ask one thing of you.”

“What is that?”

“I wish to be left alone for the day. I wish to be allowed to wander the castle freely, for I have given my word that I will not leave, but I do not wish to be around the...family as of yet. My mind is too full of what I have seen on this night- both in the gardens and in my chamber- and I require time to think.”

He did not like her request, but he could find no fault in it either. He had a feeling in his gut that Jaime would go crazy at the idea of not seeing his mate for any amount of time, especially after what happened. Still he nodded. What she was asking for was not unreasonable and he had enough servants who could watch her for him to be safe in the knowledge that she would stay true to her word.

“I will tell the pack to give you time,” he said and she stopped picking at the dried blood around her fingers. “I will have food and drink as well as a tub brought up for you. I will send the maester to look at your wound when the servants bring the tub.” He stood and started to leave. “Lady Brienne,” he turned back toward her. She looked at him. “He really did do it to protect you.” 

Brienne licked her lips. “Goodnight, Lord Tywin.”

“Goodnight, Lady Brienne.”

He walked out of the chamber and headed for the servants' quarters. He needed to give very detailed instructions on how to proceed with his guest. And he needed to find Jaime. He had to speak with his son about what to do with the Septa's body. The hunters were still present and already looking for reasons to kill his pack. He did not wish to give them another. Tywin would have to find a way to destroy the body and save his son from himself...

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Tyrion limped out of the woods at the first sign of dawn. He made his way to the tunnel for his clothes, dressing quickly before heading into the castle. His father was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Tyrion paused for a moment at the look on his father's face. He took a deep breath, wondering if this was the conversation he was waiting to have. Would this be the moment when Tywin told him his betrothal to Brienne was over and that he was going to marry her to Jaime. He reached his father and nodded in his direction. 

“Father,” Tyrion said with respect.

“Tyrion,” Tywin moved out of the way. “We need to speak about Lady Brienne.” _Ah,_ he thought with a mental sigh. _This was that conversation._ “It seems we have a problem. Last night Septa Roelle was murdered.”

“I am sorry, father, but I do not mourn that woman's death. She was cruel and had been hurting Lady Brienne for many years.”

“I do not mourn her either,” Tywin said sternly. He was not pleased at being interrupted. Tyrion snapped his mouth shut. Obviously this death was not the entirety of the problem they faced. “The killing was done by your brother.” That was not what Tyrion was expecting... but mayhaps he should have. Jaime's blood was running hotter than normal, with the full moon and his mate being kept from him, Tyrion could see a possibility of Jaime being violent. “The Septa was harming Lady Brienne.” Tyrion winced. That would definitely make Jaime react as well. “She hit her with a rock and Jaime killed her. Lady Brienne saw it all.”

“How is she, father? That must have been horrifying and if she was injured as well...”

“She is in shock. I have spoken with her. She knows what we are.”

Tyrion could not stop his eyebrows from rising. “She knows about all of us being werewolves? Does she know about Jaime?”

“She does not know he is the one who killed the Septa, if that is what you meant.” Tywin paused and stared at his son with sharp eyes. “Are you also asking if she knows that he is her mate?” At his nod, Tywin shook his head. “I have not told her that either.”

“I would assume you wish to break our betrothal,” Tyrion said with mixed feelings.

“I would not,” Tywin responded. “She is looking for a reason to leave and I have already told her that I will not allow her to break the union pact if she wishes to keep Lannister gold in her island. It would not do to then break it myself.”

“But father...”

“Tyrion,” his father's voice turned low and commanding. “Lady Brienne is going to be a Lannister. Jaime has obviously mated to her, as you have mated to that handmaiden.” Tyrion blanched. “Did you really believe I did not know?”

“Please do not hurt her,” Tyrion pleaded. “I will send her away if that will...” Tywin held up a hand, stopping the words from his younger son.

“I will not cause her harm,” Tywin said clearly. “But I will not allow you to marry her either. She is not of our kind and no son of mine will wed a common-born girl.”

Tyrion felt bitter about that. It was the only time Tywin claimed Tyrion as his own and it was to let him know that he would never be with his mate. The fates really were cruel. His wolf growled and snarled, but he kept his face neutral. He was used to be seen as a disappointment and being treated as less than important. It had been rather surprising when Tywin had told him he would be marrying Brienne instead of Jaime when the union had first been announced. All assumed Tywin would link Jaime to the first available Lady, but once everything was set, it was clear why he had been chosen instead. Tarth was a minor keep, not grand enough for the golden lion of House Lannister. Lady Brienne was not a conventional beauty and would look out of place on Jaime's arm. Jaime was meant to be the Lord of Casterly Rock and Lady Brienne was not who Tywin pictured as Lady of Casterly Rock.

It was almost as if the Gods were laughing at Tywin for thinking himself one of them, because in the end, Jaime would be the one married to the Maid of Tarth. The wolf and the man had taken the choice from his father. Tyrion was mildly amused by that. It seemed only fitting that the man playing God with his children's lives could not stop the real Gods from playing with his plans.

Of course, it still left Tyrion in a horrible position. He could be more free with his affections for his lady love, but he would never be able to fully claim her as his own. He knew that he would never take her maidenhead without taking her hand in marriage, so that meant they would always be separated. His heart broke and his mind raged.

“I am being generous,” Tywin said. He must have let his mask slip and let his father see what emotions were warring within him. “I could have sent her in the cells or thrown her out onto the streets. The fact that I have not should give you some solace.”

“Yes, father,” he said with dull resignation. He should be grateful, but he was not. He was angry and heartbroken. He forced himself to focus on the problem before them and not dwell on the pain pulsing through his body. “What are we to do about Septa Roelle?”

“We must depose of the body before the hunters can find out about it.” Tywin looked down the dark tunnel toward the woods. “It would only take one man drunkenly speaking to a stranger for our world to be exposed. We need to do this quickly.”

“Yes, father,” he nodded. “I would like to speak with Lady Brienne. I feel that we need to discuss all she knows.”

“She does not wish to see any member of the pack.”

“Including Jaime,” Tyrion asked with some shock. 

“Including Jaime,” Tywin confirmed.

“That will not make my dear brother too happy,” he thought out loud. “He will go mad at the prospect of not seeing her.”

“Yes,” his father said. “I know.” He looked out at the tunnel again. “That is why we must wait for him to come back. We must inform of what Lady Brienne knows and does not know.”

Together they waited for his brother to appear. Tyrion's mind was working over everything he and his father had discussed and was coming up with a plan of his own. He could not let his life be controlled any longer... he just had to wait for the perfect opportunity.

+-+-+-+

Brienne sat in the steaming water with her arms wrapped around her legs. Lord Tywin had kept his promise and servants had arrived with food and drink at daybreak. The food had remained untouched and the drink was barely drunk. The Maester looked at her head, touching the wound gently, telling her the gash would heal with time and was not too deep. He rubbed some horrible ointment on it that stung and made her eyes water. Afterwards he applied a light wrap to her head, telling her to be cautious for the next several days. The tub had arrived sometime later and she eased into it gratefully. The liquid around her had a pinkish hue from the blood that had been on her hands and in her hair. Brienne had not followed the Maester's advice and had roughly scrubbed at her body and around the wound to rid herself of the night's gore. She dropped her forehead to her knees and tried not to cry. She did not understand how she still had tears to shed. Her body felt drained and empty. 

Everything that she had seen and heard the night before kept repeating in her mind. The wolf, the murder, the discussion with Lord Tywin... over and over again. She could not believe that this was her life. She was promised to a werewolf. She was attracted- she could at least admit it to herself- to another. She was living in a castle filled with them. The children she heard playing in the halls during the day were really wolves at night... These were supposed to be fairy tales to warn children against playing in the woods alone- they were not supposed to be real. 

And if Lord Tywin was correct, her ancestors had been wolves as well. She breathed in a quick gasp of air and raised her head. Brienne had to be going mad. The knock to her head, it must have been worse than she thought- she had to be dreaming. That was the only thing that made sense... and she desperately wanted things to make sense right now. She tensed at a knock on her door. All her muscles clenched in weariness. She stayed silent.

“Lady Brienne,” the soft voice of Tysha called through the door. 

Brienne closed her eyes and released the breath she did not know she was holding in. She carefully climbed out of the tub and grabbed for the robe next to her on the chair. She wrapped the sash around her middle and tied it tight. She opened the door with caution. Tysha looked at her and smiled easily. Brienne did not know how to act. Should she tell the other woman? Should she act as if everything was as it always was? What was the correct reaction after finding out that there are werewolves everywhere?

“M'Lady? Are ya alright?” Brienne almost laughed hysterically. _No,_ she thought. _Alright is the last thing I am._ “Lady Brienne?”

She looked at the handmaiden and a realization hit her. She needed to get Tysha away from this family... they both needed to get away. The Lannisters were dangerous. She had seen one kill her Septa violently. She did not want the same fate to happen to Tysha. She liked Tysha. The woman had been kind to her... “I need to get you to Tarth,” she said in a rush.

“Pardon me, M'Lady?” Tysha looked at her in complete confusion. “Why would I leave? This is my home. And Lord Tyrion is here. I don't wish to leave him.”

Brienne felt her panic rise. She paced the floor. “The Lannisters are dangerous. Very dangerous. I do not wish for them to cause you harm.” She stopped walking and turned to face the pretty petite woman. Her mind was going so fast she could barely keep track of her thoughts. “I... there is something you do not know and I fear for your safety.”

“I am safe, Lady Brienne,” Tysha said with confidence. “I have always been safe with the Lannisters. They have helped me since I was but a wee child. I trust them. I trust Lord Tyrion and Lord Jaime.”

Brienne felt tears spring to her eyes. She had trusted them too and now she did not. She did not know them really. They had kept something from her and from Tysha. She shook her head. “Please, Tysha,” she implored. “I am not at liberty to disclose all I know, but please, do not trust them.”

Tysha's confusion cleared and she nodded slightly. “You know now.”

Brienne's body went still. Tysha looked into her eyes and she felt her stomach turn to ice. Everyone knew the truth... everyone but her and her father. Brienne felt betrayed. She thought Tysha was her friend. She backed away, turning from the servant. 

“Lady Brienne,” Tysha said, sounding closer than before. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the handmaiden had moved into the room, closing the door behind her. “I have known about the Lannisters since I was eight. I met Lord Lannister in the woods, although at the time I didn't know it was one of them.” Brienne sat down. She was not sure she wanted to hear the story but knew she needed to nonetheless. She still wanted to trust this woman. It hurt to think that the one female she thought she could call a friend might be just another person she had to be wary of. “I was walkin' in the woods later than I should've and was attacked.”

“Attacked?” Brienne asked numbly.

“A man, well into his cups and looking for someone to use.” Tysha clutched at the side of her modest dress. Her face haunted by memories. “I was small. Just a child and could not fight him off. I screamed and that was when a wolf appeared.” She looked directly at Brienne. “What happened last night M'Lady?”

“Septa Roelle is dead.” And with those words she felt sick all over again. She was thankful for the emptiness of her stomach. She had nothing to purge. “A wolf... a Lannister.” A bubble of laughter rose in her throat. She surprised herself by letting it out. She was cracking under the pressure and did not know if she was strong enough to stay true to her word. She would find the strength from somewhere... she would have to. Brienne tried to stop laughing, pressing her lips together hard, but the humorless mirth kept coming. “I can not believe I am surrounded by werewolves. What kind of delusion is this?”

“Lady Brienne,” Tysha took a seat and met her eyes again. “The wolf that I met in the woods saved me from being raped. He killed the man to protect me. I am loyal to this family because of that and because they have been good to me.”

“Septa Roelle was trying to hurt me...” Brienne absentmindedly touched the back of her head where the wound was covered but healing. “She did hurt me.”

“The wolf protected you too.”

“Lord Tywin said that is a wolf's instinct.” She looked at Tysha again. “Why did you not tell me? I deserved to know. I get that the,” she swallowed. “The pack could not, would not, reveal themselves, but you... I thought of you as a friend.”

Tysha's warm brown eyes turned sad. “I would like to be a friend to you, M'Lady. But I'm just a servant. I work for the Lannisters. They have my loyalty.”

Brienne nodded. She was not thinking clearly. She was putting her own feelings above what is true. Tysha would not betray the Lannisters. She was bound to them and she was in love with one. Brienne looked off to the side and chewed at her bottom lip. “Tell me, have any of the Lannisters tried to hurt you?”

“No, M'Lady,” Tysha said quickly. “They have not. Lord Jaime and Lord Tyrion came to me after that night in the woods and offered me a place here. They have been kind to me. A commoner.” Tysha paused. “Have you e'er felt scared with them?”

Brienne thought back to those moments with Jaime in the practice yard. She had felt fear then, but not because she believed he would hurt her, he had stopped her from falling in fact. Her fear came from her own needs and wants. The passion that flowed through her veins while being held by him terrified her. He had a way of making her forget that she was promised to another. He had a way of making her heart pound so hard her ribs hurt. He frightened her because she wanted him so badly. She wanted to be covered by him, by that incredibly intoxicating scent that seemed to appear when she was around him. Being in his arms was like finding a piece of herself she did not know was missing or that she was longing to find. 

But that was not what Tysha meant. Brienne returned her eyes to the servant's and shook her head. “No,” she picked at the now clean skin around her nails. She could still feel the blood coating them as if it was still there. “No. I have not been frightened of them. Lord Tyrion has been extremely kind to me.”

“And Lord Jaime?”

Brienne flushed. “Lord Jaime... has been...” She did not know what to say, so she let the sentence drop. “I will need to face them all at some time, but I have asked that it not be on this day. I have a lot of thoughts and I do not know where to begin to puzzle them out.”

“When you're ready,” Tysha rose from her seat and went to the wardrobe to get a dress and smallclothes for Brienne to wear. “Lord Tyrion might be able to help you. He cares for you, M'Lady.” She carefully placed the light green dress next to Brienne. “Lord Jaime does as well.”

Brienne did not answer her. She might soon be ready to see Tyrion as her mind settles, but Jaime was another matter entirely. She got dressed with the help of Tysha and then was left alone with her thoughts again. She walked to the window and looked out at the woods. She touched the windowpane and bent her head down. She told Lord Tywin and Tysha she did not want to see anyone from the family, but here she was searching the woods for the wolf with green eyes. 

The one that protected her and frightened her. She wondered if she would ever stop being confused by her own mind and heart. She highly doubted it. As long as there was a Jaime Lannister in the world, she did not think her life would ever be clear... and that was before she added the fact he was a werewolf. 

Again... how was this her life?

+-+-+-+

Jaime stood where the body had been. The evidence of his crime had been taken away to be dealt with. The crimson stain remained. A clear reminder of what he had done. He looked over and saw the bloody stone, which was a reminder of why he had done it. He still did not regret his actions from the night before, but he did regret how Brienne now viewed his wolf. He had never seen that look on her face before and it devastated him. Those blue eyes of hers wide with shock at what she had seen. The smell of her fear had been pungent and made him want to vomit. Some of the scent still lingered in the air around the blood stain. He felt his father's presence before he turned to face him. Tywin regarded him stoically. 

“What have you done with her?” Jaime asked.

“Her body has been taken away to be dealt with discretely. You know you put us all in a delicate position.” Tywin was not accusing. He was stating a fact. “Your brother and I waited for you. You did not come to the castle right away.” 

“I went to claim my clothes in the tunnel then decided to walk for a while.” Jaime replied. “I have a heavy mind.”

Tywin arched his left eyebrow but did not comment on Jaime's words. “I spoke with Lady Brienne.”

His heart jumped at her name. “How is she? The Septa-”

“I saw what she did to the young maid of Tarth,” Tywin said. “That is the reason I spoke with her last night. She was very shaken by what happened but I believe she will get over it once she settles down. She knows about us. I have shown her our secret.”

He inhaled sharply. “She knows... Does she know that this,” he pointed to the ground where the dried blood was. “Was my doing?”

“She does not.” Tywin replied. “I have not told her that you were the one who killed her Septa Roelle. I did not think she is ready for that. And I did not think you would want her to know.”

Jaime tried to cover his relief at her not knowing. At least he might have a chance to explain. At least he might have a chance to get her to understand. Maybe he could even get her to trust his wolf. He needed her to trust his wolf. He needed her to trust _him_. He felt his father's eyes on him and met the Alpha's gaze. 

“I know that what I did could cause problems for us, but I do not regret it and I would do it again.” Tywin did not move for a moment then he nodded. “I need to see her. I need to know she is alright.” He swallowed. “Has Tyrion spoken with her? I am sure her betrothed would want to comfort her. I have seen how he cares for her.”

Tywin's green eyes turned sharper. “He does care about her.” There was something unsaid in his words. Jaime was not in the mood for games and chose to ignore whatever his father was hiding. He was itching to get to the castle and see Brienne. He needed to touch her, look her over to make sure she was truly safe. “Brienne has made it known that she does not wish to see any of us... including her betrothed.” Jaime's heart dropped and his wolf whimpered in pain. “She has said that she needs the day to think.”

He felt like he was being ripped in two. He needed to see her. It was a desperate kind of urge. Hearing that she wished to be away from him made his stomach knot. It was hard enough when she had been being pulled away from him by that bitch of a Septa, but this... this was different. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and nodded. Jaime did not know how he was going to stay away from her. He wanted to honor her wishes, as he did not want to push her further, but this was killing him. 

“I need to bathe,” he said almost to himself. “I will help depose of the body. I killed her and it is my responsibility to deal with the consequences.”

Tywin placed a hand on Jaime's shoulder and squeezed. He looked into his father's eyes and saw something he rarely did- understanding. Tywin was hard. He was hard on the pack, and on his children especially, but at that moment he showed something else. He showed Jaime that he cared and that meant a lot to him. 

“What you did was foolish,” he stated. “But I do not blame you. You wanted to protect Lady Brienne and I commend you for that son. This is a burden I will not place on your shoulders alone. We will do what needs to be done. Tyrion thanks you.” Jaime fought not to wince. He did not do it for his brother. “And eventually Lady Brienne will as well.” 

He hoped his father was right. He needed his father to be right. Jaime walked into the castle feeling like the weight of Casterly Rock was resting on his shoulders. He entered his chambers feeling lost. He wanted to turn back around, rush to her chambers and demand that she see him. He wanted to pull her close and hug her to him. He wanted to plead with her to understand that what his wolf did, what _he_ did, was for her. He could not see her hurt. The sight of that woman raising the rock had sent him spiraling into a haze of rage. That bitch had every intention of killing the maid of Tarth. Jaime's hands clenched into tight fists. How had she dared touch Brienne! How had she dared to hurt his _mate_!

He stopped suddenly. His body went numb. _His mate._ Oh Gods! That's what she was. Brienne of Tarth, the innocent wench, the brave warrior, the maiden of his dreams, was his mate. Jaime's knees buckled underneath him and he sank to the ground against the wall in shock. How could he not have known? Everything was so clear now. All his feelings. All the time he spent dreaming about her. Those thoughts of dragging her into his chamber at night and claiming her. It was so simple. His wolf had known. His body had known. Only his mind had been stubbornly blind.

Last night should have been his epiphany. He should have realized then- when all he could think about was her while running with his pack. Jaime had never given much thought to mating and bonding. He had always assumed that his mate was Cersei, that he was bonded to her by birth. It had always been their saying. The secret they kept, pinkies locked, eyes mirroring each other. _Birth to death, two halves of the same soul._

Now that he could see the truth so clearly, he could comprehend the child-like folly in that. It took Brienne being in his life for him to see the error. Cersei was not his mate, he was not bonded to her, she was only his twin. He thought about how his wolf had acted with both women. His previous lover and his mate. The wolf had never cared if Cersei was close. He had enjoyed being with his pack, he had liked the sex but he had never craved it. Jaime had been the one who did. He had been so focused on the words that had been spoken with pinkies wrapped around each other, that he had never looked around him. In his mind, Cersei had been all that existed. 

With Brienne it was decidedly different. His wolf had been aware of her from the very beginning. Her scent had tantalized him. The light fragrance had haunted him in his dreams, had followed him in his waking hours. It had meant so much, that he had known instantly when she had changed it. He had hated the loss of her light sweetness. The wolf and the man had become angry and had lashed out at her. That should have been his first warning, but he ignored it.

He had spent so much time pushing against his instincts. Covering his need for her with sex with Cersei. Getting angry at her for invading his mind so completely. He had denied what was real because it had been easier to stay away from her if he did... but it had not worked. Jaime could not leave her be. He had hunted her without realizing it. His wolf had wanted her and now he knew why. 

Getting up from the ground, he walked over to the door and left his room. There was a person he had to speak with and he was not looking forward to it. He had to come clean, however. He walked down the long corridor toward his destination. The few moments it took to reach the door were the longest of his life. He raised his hand and knocked.

The door opened and there stood his brother. Tyrion eyed him with confusion. “You never knock.”

“I need to talk to you, Tyrion,” Jaime said seriously. “It's about Lady Brienne.”

Tyrion nodded and opened the door further, letting Jaime in. He took a deep breath and entered the room.

+-+-+-+

Tyrion took a seat and stared at his brother. Jaime fidgeted, shuffling from side to side as he looked at anything but at him. He leaned back, waiting his brother out. He would start when he was ready. It was not like he did not know what this was about. He actually was quite impressed it only took him a month to realize what everyone else knew. He thought for certain Jaime would fight against the pull he felt for Lady Brienne for much longer. Tyrion knew his brother was stubborn in his affections and feared he would deny his heart until it was simply too late.

Jaime finally stopped and sat on the edge of the mattress. His green eyes settled on Tyrion's mismatched ones. “I...” He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “She is my mate.”

“I know.”

Jaime's eyes popped open and his mouth dropped. “You know?”

“Of course,” Tyrion rested his clasped hands on his stomach. “You are not very subtle and the bonding scent was strong. Everyone knows. We were all wondering how long it would take you to realize it.” He smirked. “I thought it would take at least another month or two. You have surprised me.”

“How can you be so calm?” Jaime asked in frustration. “I have seen you with her. You care for her. She is your intended and I am mated to her. Does this not bother you? You should be angry! You deserve to be loved and to be mated... I have done things that would haunt most and I did them without regret.”

“You do not believe I am loved?” Tyrion sighed. “You are a great brother, Jaime, but you are blind. I am in love and mated to someone else. I have been for many years.”

“Who?”

“Tysha,” he said with another sigh.

“What about Lady Brienne?!” Jaime seethed. Tyrion watched the anger build on his brother's face and wanted to roll his eyes. Why this would make him so mad, Tyrion could not fathom. This should have thrilled him. He could go to their father and ask for the betrothal to be broken without guilt. Jaime was very dramatic at times. “You were going to use her?”

Tyrion started laughing. He could not help it. This conversation was ridiculous. “Lady Brienne knows.” He covered his mouth to smother the giggles at Jaime's dumbfounded expression. “She was the one to come up with a plan to ensure that she got freedom and I got to spend time with Tysha. That was the reason you got to see Lady Brienne swim that day.” Jaime actually had the grace to blush a little at that. “The maid wanted to explore and Tysha and I got to be alone.”

“And she is fine with her betrothed being in love with another?” Jaime looked disbelieving. 

“Jaime,” he unclasped his hands and waved them around as he talked. “Lady Brienne and I both know why we were betrothed to each other. Neither of us were blind to this union being one of political making. We found that we liked each other, but she and I agreed we would never love each other.” Tyrion stood and started pacing the floor. “When Brienne saw me talking with Tysha, she wanted to help. It was help that I took gratefully. She is quite a woman and you are blessed by the Seven to be mated with her.” He stopped pacing and looked directly at his brother. “I would have made her a good husband. I would have been kind to her, but our union would have always lacked a spark to make it real.”

“I fear I have the opposite problem,” Jaime said finally. His rational brain taking hold. “I am relieved you are not hurt over this, dear brother. I never wanted to take someone you loved from you. I only came to tell you what I had just realized.”

“What would you have done if I was in love with her?” Tyrion's curiosity got the best of him.

“I would have tried to walk away,” Jaime replied honestly. “I know I would not have been successful, but I would have tried.”

“No, I do not believe you would have been successful at all,” he sat next to his older brother. “Are you going to tell Brienne? I mean everything.”

“How can I do that?” Jaime rubbed his hands over his pant covered legs. “She does not wish to see any of us. And... you did not see the look of fear in her eyes when I...”

“She will forgive you,” Tyrion told him with more confidence than he felt. He hoped he was right. “Father said that she hit Lady Brienne with a rock.” Jaime nodded, his green eyes filled with anger. “Then I believe she will come to realize you did what was necessary to save her. It will take time, dear brother. You will have to be patient.”

“Patience is not my virtue,” Jaime said honestly. “Especially not with her.”

“It will have to be, dear brother,” Tyrion replied. “She needs time.”

Jaime nodded. Tyrion could tell he understood. He also knew that he would not listen. Jaime had never been good at staying away from something he wanted.

+-+-+-+

Brienne walked down a path that led away from the walls of Casterly Rock. She had no idea where she was going and honestly did not care. Her only purpose was to put space between her and the fortress she was living in. She looked around her and saw a swing hanging from an old oak tree. She moved toward the flat piece of wood swaying in the strong breeze. She sat on the swing in the secluded part of the garden. It was as far from the spot she was in last night as she could get. She just had to get out of the castle. The walls felt like they were closing in on her and she could not take being in her room any longer. She was not naive, she knew Lord Tywin was keeping her under close supervision. She also acknowledged that he was keeping his promise that no one would bother her until she was ready to see them.

She pushed her feet against the ground, rocking the swing back and forth. She held onto the rough ropes on either side of her and leaned her forehead against her left fist. She had told the Lannister patriarch that she did not wish to see anyone and at the time she meant it. She had too many thoughts running through her head and all of her thoughts had been negative. Now though, she had Tysha's words blending with them. Hearing the handmaiden's story and comparing it to what happened to her made her realize that both Lord Tywin and her were telling the truth. The wolf had saved her. He had protected her.

And she had stabbed him and scared him off. She closed her eyes and pushed harder against the ground. With a clearer head and some very restless sleep, she could see the events for what they were. Had it happened differently, she might not have acted that way. But her emotions had already been frayed by all of Septa Roelle's hurtful words and all the memories of her childhood. It had been too much. Brienne looked up through the dancing leaves in the tree. She wished her father was here. She wished she had never met the Lannisters. She closed her eyes against the lie.

If she had never met the Lannisters, she would not have met Tyrion whom she really did like. She would never have met Tysha. And she would have never met Jaime. Her stomach flipped and her heart began to race. She heard some sticks break behind her and turned to look. Jaime stood there, watching her. Her racing heart sped up. She got up from the swing and turned to face him. He moved closer to her. His pace slow. Giving her time to leave if she wanted, but she did not. The wind grew a little stronger, making the petals of the flowers fall like rain at their feet.

“I can go,” he said even as he continued to advance in her direction. “I have been told you do not want to see any of the Lannisters right now. I just wanted to make sure you were alright... after everything that happened. I was concerned when I heard about the wound to your head.” He reached out as if to touch her before dropping his hand back to his side.

She mourned the lack of touch for a brief moment. What would his hands feel like in her hair? Would his touch take some of the dulling pain away like it had in the library when she hurt her thumb? Some hair blew against her face as she continued to watch him. He looked sinful and that dark scent was hitting her again. The wind that was wrecking havoc with her hair was blowing his tunic against his flat and toned stomach. Her eyes traveled along his body in a new way. Everything about him fascinated her now. He stood still letting her have her moment. She should be ashamed of her blatant appraisal, but her shame was gone now. If she was not so emotionally wrung out and functioning on very little sleep she may have acted with more grace, but she did not care at the moment.

“The maester believes I shall heal quickly enough. I did not want to see anyone earlier,” she replied to him finally. Her eyes meeting his. “You know what happened I assume.”

His eyes dropped from hers and he came to stand in front of her. She swallowed. He was so close and she started to feel weaker than normal. The rich fragrance she had come to know was stronger than it had ever been before. She licked her lips. It felt like she was being pulled under in a rip current. Her body was being swept away by desire. Heat pooled low in her belly and Jaime's eyes met hers again. Those emerald orbs were intense and filled with promises she did not have the experience to understand fully, but she somehow knew she would find pleasure in them.

“I know and I am sorry you went through that, My Lady,” his voice was husky and deep. She shivered at the sound. “Brienne...” Her name spoken by him without her title sent another tremble through her body. She clenched her hands into fists at her side to fight the desire to touch him. It was so much more intimate to hear him speak her name that way, in that tone. It was like a lover's call. “There is so much I need to tell you.” He trailed a single fingertip down her cheek, tracing the natural curve and the freckles. She felt like a thousand hands touching her all over. Her nerve endings focused on how light his caress was and how she wanted more...needed more. “Oh Gods,” he groaned, a rumbling sound that caused her insides to swoop. “You smell so good, so delicious.”

“You did not always used to think so, Ser,” she whispered. Her mind was fogging up. Thoughts she should not be having about her intended's brother were flooding into her. “You thought I smelt pretty revolting in fact.” 

She needed to back away. This was heading into a dangerous place, but her feet stubbornly stayed rooted... and she remained under his spell. He pressed closer to her. She did not realize how little space remained. His body heat was making her sweat, she could feel beads of it rolling down her neck. He inhaled, a low growl escaped. The sound caused another wave of desire to slam into her. 

“It was the scent of roses,” he told her in _that_ voice. She had no knowledge of fucking, she had no knowledge of anything honestly, but she was sure that voice was the epitome of it. “It covered everything that makes you so enticing.”

“I did not like it either,” she admitted. _How can I still be talking?_ She wondered. She could barely think and yet words were being spoken. “It was too strong...” She looked into his eyes. “You could have said you did not like the smell of those flowers. We might have gotten along better if you had.”

He chuckled and oh Gods, that was almost as good as him talking. “I have been told that I often speak without thinking.” 

His eyes held hers and she felt the power of his stare. It was making her feel like she did that day in the lake- naked and vulnerable. His emerald orbs became more intense and that's when she saw it. The wolf under his skin. The animal that prowled at night. He was a predator and she felt like his prey. Brienne heard the distant warning bells going off again, but they were immediately drowned out by the rushing of her blood. He licked his lips and she did the same. As his hand cupped her cheek, her eyes fluttered close and she tilted her head into his touch. _Stop this!_ a soft voice screamed in her head. _You know this is wrong. What are you doing? He is not who you are promised to. You are acting like a whore._

Her eyes snapped open. The voice- she heard it clearly now- it was Septa Roelle. Even dead she was breaking her down... but she was also correct. Brienne forced herself to take one step back. “Lord Jaime,” she did not recognize her own voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Lord Jaime...”

“I wish you would be less formal with me, Brienne.”

Her name. She inhaled. That scent. She was going mad with want and she knew she was stepping closer to the edge. “And I wish you would be more formal,” Brienne said with very little conviction. His expression told her he did not believe her. She would not have believed herself or her own words either. “We can not keep doing this.”

“We have done nothing,” he leaned in again. “But I want to.” He pressed his face close to her neck. His warm breath tickled her skin, but she did not feel like laughing. She felt like falling to the ground with him in her arms the way they had in the practice yard. “You want to as well.” He traced the column of her neck with his words. “I can smell you.” She wanted so much to turn her head and give in. “A wolf has heightened senses. During the full moon, they get even sharper.” Brienne was shaking as the words sank in, a deeper blush bloomed on her fevered skin. He knew she was aroused. He had known each time they were together that had she pretended otherwise. Her sluggish mind worked on that for a while. Her body went a little numb. She could not hide from him- he would know her feelings, he did know her feelings. That was terrifying to think about, but the fear did not stop the heat from blazing inside of her. “I can smell you,” he repeated. “You have invaded my dreams and conquered my mind like the warrior you are.” If he touched her right now, she was sure she would give him anything. The fire in her veins was killing her, burning her resolve. She pressed her thighs together, hoping to relieve the ache. He growled again. “Brienne...”

“Jaime,” he heard her slip and pounced. His lips grazed the shell of her ear. If she had been caught in a rip current before, she was completely out to sea now. Her hands, which had remained at her sides the whole time, came up to clutch at his shoulders. He hissed when she pressed hard into his right one. She paused. She had stabbed the wolf who killed her Septa on his right side... Her hands dropped down from his body and she backed away from him. This time when she looked into his eyes, she saw more. The man and the wolf had the same bright green orbs. _Fool!_ she screamed at herself. “It was you.”

He went still. Brienne knew it was true, felt it in her bones and he did not deny it. She backed away again. The distance helped clear her mind but did nothing for the ache situated both in her heart and in her most private part. He reached out to touch her again. She evaded his outstretched hand. If he held her, she would lose what little remained of her resolve. 

“I did it to protect you,” Jaime said and Brienne's world crashed at her feet. “She was hurting you. She was saying false and hateful words: about you, Tyrion and my feelings for you. When I saw her grab that rock I reacted.”

“You saw it all,” she whispered. “You heard it.” He nodded. “Did she tell the truth about you and your twin?” He hesitated. She closed her eyes, bracing herself against the word she knew he would say next.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But she was wrong about my feelings for you. You are not simply a distraction until I can be back with Cersei.” She opened her eyes. “I want you. You know that. Just as I know you want me.”

Brienne nodded. “There is no point in denying what I feel. You would know if I was anyway.” He nodded even though he did not have to. She shook her head and pressed her lips together to stop the tears. “I can not be with you, Lord Jaime.” His expression fell at the return of his title. “I do not know how to trust you right now. Your wolf protected me, but what I saw... I can not wipe it from my mind. And you... you are my betrothed's brother. I can not betray my vow to wed him. I will not put my island in jeopardy.”

“You will learn to trust me again, Lady Brienne.” She turned around to return to the castle. “My wolf and I both...I can make my father break your betrothal.” She spun around. He was there in front of her before she realized he had moved. “I can speak to my father and free you from this promise our father's made. We are meant to be-”

Her eyes narrowed. “If I break my vow, he will pull the support needed to secure my island's safety. He has made his intentions clear. I will be married to Lord Tyrion.” She pushed the burning in her gut down. Everything hurt. She felt like she was losing something by being honorable. “We are not meant to be, Lord Jaime. To act like we are is unwise. It will only cause pain to everyone.” Hurt flashed across his face and his bright green eyes grew dull. Her heart constricted at the expression, at the pain she saw. She gave in to a small impulse and touched his hand. “Thank you for saving me. I cannot be around your wolf right now, but I know that I would not be here if it were not for him and you.”

She pulled her hand back and swiftly walked to the castle. Her body was caught between being alive with arousal and heavy with pain. Brienne walked to her bedchamber, closing the door tightly behind her. She headed for the bed in the center of the room, falling upon it. When did her simple life become so complicated?

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Jaime sat on his hind legs and stared up at her open window. The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the world with a pale light. He sniffed the air. Her scent was filling him up. He tipped his head toward the moon and the stars, letting out a long howl. He was calling to her. His wolf was desperate, almost as desperate as the man he was during the day. 

He stopped howling and looked at her window again. She was standing there in her robe, her long hair blowing gently in the evening breeze, gazing down at him. Their eyes met, much like they had that first night. She licked her lips, leaning slightly out of the open space. Her endless sapphire eyes stayed on his. He stood up on all fours, bowing his front down. He heard her inhale and whisper, “Just give me time, Lord Jaime.”

Standing back up, he bent his head once in a nod. He would give her that. And he would find a way to keep his father from pulling support from her island while breaking her betrothal to Tyrion. He needed to be with her. He _would_ be with her. Both as the man and as the wolf...

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	6. Breaking Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Three days passed before she could really face any of the Lannisters comfortably. She would go out of her way to make herself scarce if more than one member of the family was in the same room. It was a bit like being in a mousetrap. She was not like them and they knew it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not thank you all enough for the constant support and love you have given this story. I am so excited to see all your comments. Every last one fills my heart with joy. I hope I can continue to make the werewolf world an interesting place to visit. I will admit this chapter gave me some problems and I wanted to toss my computer out the window more than once, but I truly hope you all enjoy it. Thank you again!!
> 
> +-+-+-+ 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, merrymaya. She listens to me worry about silly things and keeps me motivated when I hit a dark spot. I don't know where this story or any of my others would be without her holding my hand. Thank you for putting up with me. And for the beautiful banners that are so special. Also please go check out her stories! They are brilliant and very unique. (https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/pseuds/merrymaya/works)
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work. I absolutely adore it! She also has an amazing story! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500058/chapters/48649883 ). She also has another story that is a collab: (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493683/chapters/48632951) These stories are incredible. Please go read them. They are fantastic!!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/dateposted/)  


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Three days passed before she could really face any of the Lannisters comfortably. She would go out of her way to make herself scarce if more than one member of the family was in the same room. It was a bit like being in a mousetrap. She was not like them and they knew it. They could see her in ways she could not see them. By the third day, Brienne realized that she needed to confront her unease directly. She sent a servant to give Tyrion a note requesting to talk with him in the library at his earliest convenience. He showed up at her chamber's door soon after. Together they walked down the long staircase to the large room. The walk was done mostly in silence but she found herself relaxing in his presence. It was still Tyrion after all.

Brienne sat across from Tyrion in the library. She looked at him, studied him, trying to figure out what his wolf would look like. She thought back to that first night. She now knew Jaime was the large golden wolf that had caught her eyes. It made sense that even in that form he was beautiful. Without her even knowing it was him, she had been drawn to him. It was as if fate was pulling them together tighter and tighter. And that was not welcome. It was nearly impossible for her to stay away from him as it was. If the Gods were involved, she was not sure she had a chance of denying him.

She picked at an invisible thread in her cream-colored dress. She did not know what to say. How does one ask their betrothed what they looked like as an animal? How does one start? She sighed silently. Not since that first day has she been so uncomfortable in Tyrion's presence. He had always been the one to calm her crippling nerves. He had been the one to give her the strength to dismiss Septa Roelle. He had been the one to make her feel welcomed when his brother, and especially his sister, did not.

To be nervous about asking him questions was absurd to her. She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Her thundering heart started to ease. It was Tyrion. He had not changed. He was still the man she was meant to marry. He had never said a harsh word to her and she knew that he never would. She let a small smile curl her lips. 

“The first night I was here,” she started, “I saw three wolves. I know which one Lord Jaime was. Were you one of them as well?”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Yes. My wolf looks much the same as I do. My fur is gold and black and my eyes are as different in that form as they are in this one.”

“What is it like?” Brienne asked before she could stop for herself. “Changing and being so free? What is it like to see the forest in that way?”

“It is thrilling! There is nothing quite like it, My Lady,” he said with a wistful smile. “While being a wolf, I am not a dwarf. I run without pain. I am not different from my family. But the aftermath _is_ different for me. I have a harder time transforming back into my human form than Jaime or any of my kin do.” Brienne felt her heart clench. Her feelings must have shown on her face because he reached over and took her hand. “Please do not feel sorry for me, Lady Brienne. Yes, it does hurt but I have so many moments of joy as well.”

“I wish you did not have any pain, My Lord,” she said, squeezing his hand. “How did you tell Tysha?... If you do not mind me inquiring. I will understand if I have overstepped and you do not want to share something so private with me.”

“It is not all that private,” he smiled. “The servants here all know about what we are. They are under our protection not just because we are their ruling Lords, but because we are werewolves. Servants have to know who we are and we have to trust them in turn. When she came to be in our employment, Jaime and I told her the truth. Because of her experience with Jaime in the woods, she was more open to our true selves than some are when they hear about it.”

“Lord Jaime is the one who saved her from a rapist,” she said with certainty. 

“Yes,” Tyrion nodded, his lips thinned thinking about what his beloved had gone through. “He was six and ten at the time. I am forever grateful to him for rescuing her. I would never have met her if he had not been there to save her. How did you know about the rapist? Did Jaime tell you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Tysha came to me after...,” she paused, trying to think of a polite way to talk about what happened with Septa Roelle. “She came to me after what happened that night.” Brienne looked away from him, ashamed of what she was about to tell him. “I was trying to get her to leave here with me.” She picked at the skin around her nails. “I did not want to see her hurt. I did not trust any of you.” She felt her eyes well up and blinked rapidly. “I am sorry for trying to take her from you, but...”

“Lady Brienne,” he moved in front of her and tipped her chin up. “I do not blame you for wanting to protect Tysha. You had just seen a horrific act of violence done by one of us.” Brienne felt the first tear slip down her cheeks. Tyrion wiped it away. “The fact that you wanted to take her somewhere safe actually fills me with peace. I know that you care about her and I can not tell you how much that means to me.”

“Of course I care about her,” she said softly. “I have come to consider her an ally, nay a friend. I would never want harm to come to her.” Brienne sighed. “I should have known you would never hurt her, My Lord. I know how much she means to you.” Tyrion sat back down. “It was a moment of madness.”

“No,” he responded. “It was a moment of concern. If I had been in your place, I would have thought the same and probably urged her to leave as well.” He shifted uneasily. “I can not claim our pack to be a peaceful one. You have seen how violent we can become, but it is rare that we kill humans and even rarer still that we kill humans without reason. Jaime had a reason to do what he did that night.”

Brienne looked away, focusing on the sword above the hearth. The soft candlelight made the steel glow. She flushed thinking about the first time she had been in this room with a Lannister male. She unconsciously rubbed at her thumb where there was a light scar from the edge of the blade. 

“I know that he was protecting me,” she hedged. Her stomach was fluttering nervously. She could not tell the man she was betrothed to that his brother made her heart beat faster or that she could not stop thinking about him. A sudden thought made her blood run cold. “You know, don't you? You know...”

“That you have feelings for Jaime?” Tyrion asked with a small smirk. “Yes, my Lady, I do. I dare to say everyone does. Neither of you is well versed in the art of lying and even if you were, werewolves can sense lies.” Her face and body heated up and she knew she was as red as a ripe apple. “Do not be embarrassed,” he patted her hand. “I told you when we first met, Jaime has a way of charming women and I hasten to add that you have charmed him as well.”

Her eyes closed tightly and she tried to will the color from her face. “I can not say that charm had anything to do with my feelings for him. He was not kind to me and often told me I smelt quite terrible.”

Tyrion laughed and she looked over at him. He was holding his stomach and leaning back in the chair. “Oh! He would say that! The great fool!” He placed his other hand over his mouth. She shifted her eyes away again. The embarrassment over their previous altercations rushing back in. She knew it was stupid and laughable that Jaime had made comments about her scent, but his guffawing was making it worse. Tyrion calmed his giggles down and wiped at his eyes. “Forgive me, Lady Brienne.” He took in deep breaths. “I did not mean to laugh so uproariously at something that must have caused you great distress.” He finally got himself under control. “But I must admit that my dear brother is more horrible at communicating with a woman he finds appealing than I first believed. To be fair, he never had to work very hard for female attention.”

“It does not matter,” she looked quickly at Brightroar again before returning her gaze back to him. “It is just a silly thing between us. I am your betrothed and I am sure Lord Jaime will find another more charming than I to bestow his attention on.” The words felt like glass in her mouth. They cut and made her tongue bleed. Her stomach lurched violently at the idea of Jaime with another. Brienne forced her emotions down. She could not be upset when they were not fated to be together. “I am grateful to him, but gratitude is all that I can feel for him.”

Tyrion sat up a little straighter. “Do you know much about wolves, Brienne?”

“No,” she said. “We do not have any on Tarth... or if we do, not many.”

“Seeing as it is an island, that is not surprising,” he acknowledged. “Wolves are loyal creatures. It is why mankind had tried to make them pets. They are protective but try not to be aggressive. The pack would not survive if all of its members were always ready to fight each other. This holds true for werewolves as well. Wolves as with people have different traits, of course, but for the most part we do not go out of our way to harm. When it comes to attraction and love, werewolves are built, again, like humans. We look to bond with another and when we do bond, it can be stronger than steel. When we find our perfect mate- which, My Lady, I must stress is rare- that bond becomes almost unbreakable. Mated werewolves mate for life.”

“What if something should happen to the mate?” Brienne asked, breathless.

“Depends on the wolf,” Tyrion said. “Some try to find another to bond with- needing that social connection. Wolves are social creatures at the most basic level. Others do not love again. This is what happens in most cases, especially when it is the Alpha. Werewolves can live happily without being mated. They can have children and be in a committed relationship without concern. Finding your perfect bonded mate is not easy and some never do find them. I have been blessed, and also cursed, to have found mine so early in my life.”

“Tysha,” she smiled gently at him. “She is your mate.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I knew it when I was young. She bewitched my soul and my wolf recognized her spirit right away. The fact is, as hard as it is to find your mate, it is even rarer for your mate to be a human. It does not happen often. But it _does_ happen.”

She took note of the emphasis. She did not know what he was trying to explain, but she had a feeling she would find out eventually. “Thank you for the information, My Lord.”

“Is it not time for us to call each other by our proper names?” He smiled at her. “There are no more secrets between us and I consider you to be my friend, not just my betrothed.”

She grinned at him. “I consider you my friend as well, Tyrion.”

“Thank you, Brienne,” he took her hand again. “I have had very few friends in my life. Most have only pretended to like me- false friends wanting to get in with my family. I do not trust easily because of being fooled many times, but I trust you.”

She blushed at his words. She understood those feelings. She had felt them many times. It was not easy to trust when so many have shown you reasons not to. “I feel the same.”

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Jaime watched from the top step as Brienne and Tyrion came out of the library. His heart pounded in his chest. He had not seen her much in the last several days while he and his father dealt with the hunters as well as Septa Roelle's body. He thought briefly about how they got rid of the corpse. It was never pleasant to deal with the dead, but seeing the result of his own viciousness was even more disheartening. Seeing the way he had acted, he could not blame Brienne for turning away from him in fear. He still was not sorry and would do it again. Septa Roelle had deserved her fate. She had earned it by being abusive and by trying to break Brienne down. And now she was gone. The cruel woman's body would never be found; it had been weighted down by rocks and sunk deep into the unpredictable Sunset Sea at the break of dawn. 

He started down the stairs toward the intended couple. His mouth curled. He would get that changed. Soon. He would get his father to see reason and then he would make Brienne his. Jaime reached the bottom step before either of them acknowledged his presence. He inhaled deeply as he got closer. His heart began to beat faster. He had missed being around her. He had missed having her close.

“Jaime!” his brother exclaimed. “How are you doing on this sunny morn?”

Jaime's eyes fell to Brienne, “I am doing much better now, dear brother.” Brienne turned her head and looked at him. Her tongue came out to wet her lips and her eyes turned darker. Her cheeks started to flush. Jaime knew he was sending out the bonding scent- now that he understood what was happening between them, but he could not help it. He wanted her to react. He got pleasure in watching her take notice of him in the way he was taking notice of her. He wanted her to feel the intensity of his attraction. “How are you, Lady Brienne?”

She swallowed roughly. “I am fine, My Lord.” She rubbed her palms against the material of her cream gown. 

Tyrion cleared his throat and he turned his gaze to his younger sibling. The dwarf rolled his eyes at him. “I believe I will take my leave. I have much to do this morn before lunch and I need to start promptly. Brienne,” Jaime jolted at the lack of title, showing his teeth in response. His wolf growled under his skin. “It was a pleasure talking with you.”

“Yes, Tyrion,” this time his eyes narrowed. “It was. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

“I will always make time for you,” he bowed. “Good day, Jaime.”

“Yes,” Jaime growled, he could not stop the sound. How dare his brother get to be informal with the Maid of Tarth- his **_mate_**, while he did not! “Good day indeed.” Tyrion pressed his lips together to smother his smirk and then headed down the north hall. Jaime turned back to Brienne, who suddenly looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there with him. He smiled tightly. “Tell me, _My Lady_, when did you deem my brother worthy of being addressed without his title? When I asked you to call _me_ by my given name you refused.”

She looked away from him. “It is easier to call him by his given name, Lord Jaime.”

“Why is that?” He stepped closer to her and she stepped back. “We have the same title. You have known us both for the same length of time.” He kept moving into her space as he spoke. “I do not see a difference. Do I still frighten you, My Lady?”

“The difference,” her voice was filled with longing and her breath was getting heavy as if she had been running. “I see him as a friend. And yes...” she sucked in a breath. “You do frighten me, My Lord, but not because I believe you will hurt me.”

“I would never harm you, Lady Brienne.” He backed her into a darkened alcove and trapped her with his arms on either side of her body. He pressed against her. “But I am hurt by you. You do not think of me as a friend?”

Her lips parted. “No,” she whispered huskily. “I do not know what you are to me, but you are not merely a friend.” He could hear her heart beating quickly in her chest.

“You are right,” he leaned in and spoke right next to her ear. She shivered and her arousal washed over him. He took another deep breath. “I am more.” Her hand came up to push against his chest. She did not put much force into it but he backed away a little to give her room to breathe. She looked good enough to eat with her skin covered in caramel dots and blushing from desire. He wanted to get her alone so he could enjoy her without others watching. Jaime knew that dragging her to his chambers was out of the question. He still needed to get her to trust him. He brushed some of her hair out of her face and she leaned into his palm. “Come riding with me...”

“I do not think that is a good idea,” she started. “We...” she paused. Her body speaking for her. She wanted him closer but was still scared.

“You owe me a ride,” he let the double meaning hang between them. He knew she would not understand the dual significance of the sentence. “I won our fight and you never did pay your debt.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Did you cheat, My Lord?”

“I am offended you do not believe I won our sparring match by fair means.” He took the hand that was against his chest and brought it to his lips. “I can assure you, Lady Brienne. I won without subterfuge.” Her eyes narrowed further and her lips pressed together with suspicion. “You do not believe I could win without using my abilities?”

A smile started to form on her mouth and her eyes sparkled. “I told Tyrion the first day we met that I had seen you fight in a tourney once.”

“Were you impressed, My Lady? Did I make your heart race?”

“I thought you were only good,” she laughed at him. His mouth dropped open and this time his eyes narrowed. “Oh come now, Lord Jaime. The opponent you faced had been woefully over-matched and you did not seem to even try.” She touched his chin to shut his mouth. “I did think you fought with a grace I had never seen before. It was like you knew what the other knight was going to do before he did. As for making my heart race, I am sorry, My Lord, but you did not.”

“And why was that?”

“You did not seem very kind,” Brienne admitted. “You acted as though anyone who was not your kin was not worth your time. I was young but I remember seeing many a girl try to get your attention and you turned them all away.”

“I would not have turned you away,” he whispered, stepping close again. “Not with those eyes.”

“You speak with flattering words, but I know that would not be true.” Her thumb traced his chin. “You were able to turn me away quite easily when we first met.”

“I was a fool.”

“Mayhaps,” she slid from his grasp and looked around them. “But being a fool does not change what happened between us.” Her blue eyes darkened as he began to move close to her again. “I lose myself when you are near.” The words were quiet but she knew he heard them by the way she blushed at his intake of breath. His blood rushed through his veins. Brienne walked further away from him and sighed. “We should not be so close. Anyone could see us and...”

“Then come riding with me,” he urged. “Let us escape these castle walls. I will not release you from your debt. Whether or not you believe I won by underhanded means does not make the fact you owe me a ride any less true.”

She hesitated, caught between two desires: the desire for him and the desire to be honorable. He wanted to shake her nobility from her. He wanted her to embrace the passion between them. Jaime wished she could let him have just a taste. He needed to know what she tasted like on his tongue. But he also admired her. She was light and pure, untouched and sweet. He knew that was one of the traits that attracted him to her. That made his wolf notice her. His innocent wench- an unknowing beauty he could not get enough of.

Brienne pulled at the skin around her nails. “Alright.” He let a slow smile grace his lips. “Let me change into something more suited for riding and I will meet you at the stables, Ser Jaime.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I will meet you there, Lady Brienne.”

Her hand was shaking as she pulled it from his and turned to go up the stairs toward her chambers. He watched her until she was out of his view. Jaime needed to speak with his father soon. He needed this betrothal broken. He needed her in his arms permanently.

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_I am extremely dim-witted,_ Brienne thought as she rode alongside Jaime through a thick part of the woods surrounding the castle. She should have said no to him. She should have been stronger, but she wasn't. She was weak with him and getting weaker. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. Of course he would look as gorgeous in this setting as he did in all she had seen before. His golden hair was catching the breeze, his green eyes were bright with excitement and his body was completely at ease on his mount... She turned away again. _I am not just dim-witted. I am a fool as well._

This was inviting trouble. She should have been stronger. Her hands twisted in the reins, tightening the thin leather over her skin. Why could she not control herself around him? Why was it that she could not think properly when he was near? Was it as simple as attraction making her vulnerable in his presence? She didn't think so. She had been infatuated before, it just wasn't like this. 

Jaime was like a cyclone coming to swallow her up. He spun her around and made her dizzy. She couldn't find her footing with him. Everything about him was scary and exciting. Her heart raced and skipped and flipped. Her stomach swooped in a way that she couldn't explain. It was hard for her to breathe in his presence sometimes. She looked at him through her eyelashes and caught him looking at her. She blushed, pulling her gaze away.

“What are you thinking about, My Lady?” He smirked as if he already knew.

She thought about lying. She thought about making up a story about any number of topics that did not circle back to her desire for him. She thought about it but stopped herself. He would not believe her. He could sense her lies, smell them out as a bloodhound would. To save herself the embarrassment of trying to explain that she was thinking of how much she wanted to give in to his kiss- just once- she kept her mouth shut. Brienne ran her hand down the strong neck of the gray palfrey she rode. It was the same beautiful creature from the day at the lake. 

“Do you wish to keep your thoughts to yourself? Do you wish to hold your tongue and leave me deprived of your sweet voice?”

“You are teasing me, Ser,” she huffed, finally looking at him. “I do not believe you are in agony over not hearing my wayward thoughts.”

“I disagree,” he urged his horse to slow down and she was forced to do the same. “I enjoy the tone of your voice and your witted tongue. I have been enticed by your voice since that first day in the foyer.”

“You speak of that day a great deal, My Lord.” She pushed some hair behind her ears. “You act as though you were interested in my presence from the very start.” He tilted his head and his green eyes bored into her. “I recall our meeting differently.”

“If you would be so kind to enlighten me, how did you see it, Lady Brienne?”

She licked her lips and tried to think of how to phrase her thoughts. “When we touched, you sneered quite viciously at me. It was a shift in your posture that made me believe you wished to never look upon me again. I know the signs well, My Lord.” She dropped her voice, wishing with all her heart that he would not hear what she was going to say next. “It is a reaction I have encountered more than once from many a male and female.”

“Those that came before me, My Lady,” he started, his voice rumbling through her, “are not me. There is no one like me, just as there is no one quite like you. Please do not hold me accountable for others' foolishness.” He paused, holding her gaze hostage. “I admit that I did not react honorably that day but it was not for the reasons you thought. I didn't think you too homely to look at or that you were unworthy of being my brother's bride.” His lips curled into a rueful smile. “I acted as I did because I recognized something special about you. Your voice was so much different than I was expecting and your eyes besieged my soul. I was not prepared for it and for that reason I acted as only a fool would.”

“Lord Jaime...” she shook her head. “Please, I beg of you, do not speak this way with me.”

“Why should I not share my feelings with you?”

“Because it will only confuse me more,” she pleaded with him with her eyes to understand that she could not take this type of assault. She was already on the brink of madness. These words spoken in that voice- which sent shivers throughout her body- were only going to make the journey to insanity happen faster. “You know that we are to be good-brother and good-sister. Nothing more. And yet, when I am with you- when you are so close- I can almost believe...”

“Believe what,” he urged his horse closer. His leg brushing against hers. “Please, what does it make you believe?”

“It makes me,” she inhaled that dark fragrance and closed her eyes. She was sinking below the surface again. “I cannot do this,” Brienne whispered. “Why must you tempt me so?”

Jaime reached out to brush the hair that came loose from her bun away from her face. “You talk as if you are the only one being tempted.” Her breath caught as his fingers traced the curve of her cheek. “Let me assure you, My Lady, you are bewitching me as well. You are my own personal siren calling out to me.”

“Sirens are bad omens, My Lord,” she said, trying to pull herself from the deep. “They lead men to their deaths. Is that what is happening between us? Are we simply leading each other to our doom?”

He cupped her face. “Does this feel like we are heading for our doom?”

Her eyes welled up with emotion. “I do not know.” Her voice shook a little. “The feelings I feel for you are overwhelming and I can not shake the feeling that it is wrong to feel them. Why was I betrothed to Tyrion if I was destined to...”

Jaime leaned toward her on his horse. Their faces were close enough to touch. “Destined to want me?” Her body heated up and she nodded. He hesitated. “Follow me.” He removed his hand from her face. “There is much we have to talk about and I want to be able to see you properly when I say all I need to say.”

“Alright,” she wanted to curse herself. She should tell him no. Brienne had done as he asked. She had gone riding with him. She should take this time to run and hide from this, but her curiosity was clawing at her. Mayhaps he would help her understand what was happening. He knew more about this type of situation than her. “Lead the way.”

He smiled gently at her and kicked his horse into a trot. She waited a moment, then kicked her palfrey into a light trot as well. A thought entered her mind that she would follow him even into the fires of the Seven Hells.

+-+-+-+

Jaime took the reins of her horse from her and looped them over a low branch with his own. The animals bent their heads down to eat some of the green grass. He turned back to Brienne. She sat down on a fallen tree, studying her hands. He walked over to her and sat down next to her. Her head turned slightly in his direction. Her mesmerizing eyes were locked on his and he felt his blood start to get hotter. He cleared his throat.

She wrapped her light cloak around her body as if shielding herself from whatever he was about to say. He sighed a little. He didn't really know how to begin. How does one go about telling another that they are mated? How does he start the conversation? It was not something he felt like he could just say and have her truly understand. Jaime was not completely sure he understood. 

“You had something you wished to say, My Lord,” she prompted. His wolf nearly hummed in contentment at being so close to her. “Lord Jaime...?”

“What do you feel when you are near me, My Lady?”

Her gaze slipped away from his. “I believe you know what I feel. You have known for a while and yet did not tell me that my reactions to you were so obvious.”

“They were only obvious because I feel them too,” he reached over and pulled her hand from her lap and placed it close to his heart, letting her feel how fast it was racing. “I have only ever wanted one woman.” Brienne blanched and tried to pull away. He held on. He had to make her understand and to do that, he had to talk about his moral crime of incest. She looked over at him again. “I have only wanted one woman. I wanted her because she was all I could see. Cersei was who I entered the world with and I assumed that meant fate had bound us together. Wet nurses spoke about how I held onto her foot while we were being birthed. I took this to mean-” He licked his lips. 

Jaime stopped. He knew he needed to tell her everything but he feared this would be the thing that sent her running away. His life was being broken down into two halves, the one where Cersei meant everything and the one where he learned the truth. The relationship between them had been exciting and forbidden. He had been in love with the idea of them. The mirror images who were destined to be together. Yes, he knew it was morally wrong in the eyes of many, but he didn't give a fuck about the opinions of sheep. It was a phrase his father had taught them all. The sheep consisted of anyone outside the pack. The only opinions that mattered where the ones of your family. Jaime and Cersei took it a step further. To them, the only ones that truly mattered were each other... It was how he had always lived. Every time he had fought in tournaments, it had been to please Cersei. He had wanted to see her lips quirk up in a sly smile that he had always known was just for him. He had seen no one but her. Brienne had been right earlier. He probably would have tried to send her away had he met her at of tourney. 

But that was before. Before he understood- really understood- what it meant to _want_ someone. Wanting Brienne was different than wanting Cersei. With Cersei, he had desired her body and let everything else fall away. He overlooked how she could be cruel to others- including their baby brother- because if he didn't see it, he could ignore his discomfort with it. Of course, he knew how she was. Just as he knew she sometimes lied to him when it suited her. Cersei was skilled in the art of manipulation, but that didn't mean he was unknowing of her tricks. Jaime just closed his eyes because he wanted to fuck her- his other half, his mirror image.

The desire he felt for Brienne was more than skin deep. It was more than just her impressive body that left him panting and longing for her. It was her eyes- those beguiling twin orbs of the purest blue. The color of them so unique and intriguing, sapphires that were so dazzling he could not look away. It was her smile- that he knew she did not like from the way she would try and stop it from fully forming. It was subtle but the tells were there. She would keep her lips together as long as possible until she simply could not any longer. It was her wit- the wicked sharp tongue that was only used when she had to. Her quick comments that were as innocent as they were surprising. 

It was the way she moved with a sword- graceful and sure. It was how she treated Tysha and anyone else she met- with kindness, even those who were not always kind to her in turn. And yes, it was her _body_. The strong muscles under freckled skin. The pale scars showing how she wasn't afraid of placing herself in harm's way. The dusty nipples that he had only glimpsed through her sodden garment, but longed to have in his mouth. The patch of straw hair that covered her most private part. He wanted, needed, everything that made her who she was. 

And that was just the man. His wolf needed her warmth and spirit. The scent that hung on her skin- calling the beast to her like honey to a bear. The primal pull of her sweet blood. He glanced at her. She was staring at him waiting for him to continue. He placed his thumb against the base of her wrist where her pulse was fluttering. Jaime scooted closer. 

“I never believed that I would find a mate. I did not think I had to search. I believed Cersei was the one for me.” She inhaled sharply. “I know that must disgust you. A brother loving his sister in that fashion...” He wanted her to disagree and tell him she understood. He knew she would not say that though. How could she understand? She was pure and light, while he was caked in mud. 

“My feelings on your...” she shook her head, “relations with your sister do not matter. I do not have a sibling left in the world and I have never had a twin. Being so wrapped up in each other, from the moment of conception, must bond you together. Tyrion explained to me how wolves need to be with their packs- mayhaps it is even more of a pull when the wolves are twins.” She tried to tug her hand away again. “Ser Jaime, please let go.” He did as she asked and she stood. “I do not know why you brought me here to tell me about your mate. It does nothing to ease my mind knowing that you are bonded to your twin. If anything, it has troubled it more...”

Jaime stood as well, frustrated. She was missing his point! “You think I am telling you this because I am bonded to _Cersei_?” He reached for her but she evaded him. He pursued her anyway. He needed to touch her, he needed to be connected to her. Brienne turned from him, but he stopped her from leaving him by wrapping his hand around her upper arm gently. “People call me blind and obtuse at times, but my Lady, you are giving me a race for the title.” She spun around to face him. Her eyes were flashing and full of hurt. “I am trying to explain to you why we can not stop trying to be together-”

“You are doing a shit job!” His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened at her use of such a crude word. He had never heard her curse and it made him grin. She, on the other hand, looked horrified. “I...,” Brienne stuttered. “I am sorry. I should never have said that.” He chuckled then laughed loudly. “Ugh,” she huffed at his reaction. She yanked her upper arm free and walked to the horses. Jaime got control of himself and followed. “You are bringing out the worst in me, My Lord!”

“What did Tyrion tell you about bonding with another?” He called out to her. She stopped before she reached for the reins. Brienne slowly turned to face him. “Did he describe what happens between the couple?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Not really.”

“When I was young, I did not care to know about my wolf's reaction to finding my perfect mate.” She swallowed roughly. “I had to tell you about Cersei to get you to understand.” He run a hand through his locks and growled deep in his throat. She shivered at the sound and a wave of her scent- the one that indicted she was aroused- slammed into him. He advanced on her. “I was never bonded to Cersei. I was never mated to her. I did not know what it was to be so connected to someone...” He cupped her cheek and gently pulled her close to him. She rested her palms against his chest, her eyes stayed on his. “Being mated... it takes over. All the senses hone in on one person. Their smell drives their partner to distraction.” He used his fingertips to trace her neck. “Their taste makes their partner's mouth water.” Jaime leaned in closer, his lips brushing over her temple. Brienne's heart pounded in her chest. So hard that he could feel it against his own. His heart answered hers. “Their touch becomes an obsession.” He took one of her hands from his chest and placed it on his neck, right where his pulse point was. “Seeing them brightens up even the darkest of days. The pair finds solace in each other.” He moved his lips from her temple to her forehead. Her hand curled around his neck, sliding into his hair. The hand on his chest tightened into the material of his tunic. “The sound of them- their heartbeat, their voice, the blood rushing through them- makes their mate desire hearing them more.” Jaime looked into her eyes. “They are consumed by each other. The need to be together is so intense it can feel like a spell has been cast upon them.”

“Ser Jaime...”

“I was never bonded to Cersei.” He continued, drawing her closer to him again. Her breathing was coming in short gasps. She was shaking all over. The realization of what he was telling her was beginning to crash into her. The hand in his hair was trembling. The hand at her back was tracing the curve of her spine as his other hand slid slowly up to cradle the back of her head. “What I thought I felt when I was with her is nothing compared to what I feel when I am with-”

“Stop,” she whispered. “Please, stop.”

“I can't,” he said. Her body fit with his as if they were carved from the same stone. Her curves and angles matched his so perfectly, it could only be because a divine craftsman made them for each other. “We were meant to be together, Brienne.” She inhaled sharply. Jaime dragged his lips over her temple again. “There is another part of the bonding process...” She whimpered and inhaled again. Her blue eyes turned slightly glassy as if she was drunk. She was. Jaime was releasing as much of the bonding pheromone as he could. It was underhanded but only a true mate was affected by the scent. “A wolf releases a scent to his mate,” her eyes sharpened a little. “It can smell different to each person, but only the wolf's true mate is drawn to it.”

Brienne closed her eyes and said softly, “Sandalwood, mahogany and moonlight.” Her eyes opened. Jaime was drowning in their dark depths. “I first smelt it when we were in the library after I hurt my finger.” He nodded. “I couldn't figure out where the dark scent was coming from...”

“I did not realize I was calling to you then,” Jaime admitted. “I didn't understand what was building between us until that night in the garden.” The hand in his hair tightened. “That morn, I realized what others had already known. We are bonded mates, Brienne. My wolf and I need you, want you, desire you. We will be one.”

“If this is true,” her voice was husky and deep, “then the fates are truly cruel. Why would they bind me to your brother when you are the one who completes me?” His heart skips at her words. Without trying, she perfectly described what he had been trying to say. She completed him. She was his true other half. “Jaime,” he thrilled at the lack of title. She didn't even notice and he was not about to tell her. “Why would your wolf choose me when you could have anyone? It does not make sense. I am not a beauty or a wolf...”

“Oh Brienne,” he slid his hand up her back, pressing her closer to him. Their bodies were flush together. Hearts beating in unison. “You are beautiful. Mayhaps not in the traditional way, but never doubt that you are _beautiful_. I have spent so much time, too much time, trying to get you out of my head... but you are there always. I yearn for you when you are away from me. These past few days we have not touched or been around each other have been torture to my soul.” He gave in to the small need to kiss her skin. He pressed his mouth against her cheek, lingering there. She was shaking harder than before. “You can not marry Tyrion. I can not sit by and watch you with him. I can not have you swell with his child and bear his cubs.” He pulled back and Brienne swallowed. “You are mine. I have claimed you. _We_ have claimed each other. I am the only man you will have between your legs,” her breath caught, “the only man to know the taste of you.” His green eyes trailed over her body. Her nipples were rigid, begging for his touch, his mouth. Her skin was bright red from desire. He wanted to suck more of her blood to the surface, leave his mark. “All of you.”

“You overwhelm me,” she whimpered. “Your words drug me and your scent makes me weak.” She bent her head down. “I do not want to marry Tyrion. I know he will be good to me, but I do not want to carry his babes.” Brienne's blue eyes turned sad. “I can not simply think of myself, Jaime. I can not fall into your arms as if I am without responsibilities. Your father holds my island's fate in his hands. How can I be selfish when so many people need me to be strong?”

“What if I can get him to release you from this union contract and keep the support to your island? What will you have to deny me then?” He was getting flustered and frustrated by her. She knew the truth, he could smell her heady arousal and yet she _still_ held herself back. “Brienne, what will you use to build a wall between us then?”

“I am not denying you for the humor of it,” she insisted, pushing away from him. “This heat under my skin is burning me alive. You speak of how much you long to be with me and I feel the same.” She licked her lips and stared at him. He wanted to reach for her again but she was still backing away from him. “The night Septa Roelle had been killed, I was a mess. I could not think straight. My mind was a tangle of fears. The only thought that had been clear was that I wished you were there. Even as my mind fractured, I had looked for you.” He could not stand still after that revelation. He rushed over and hugged her close. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed, “Jaime, I can not give into you while so many need me. Please understand.”

He kissed her cheek again and nodded. “I do understand, Brienne.” He pulled back and took her face in his hands. “And I will get you out of this marriage contract without endangering your island. I will get my father to break this silly betrothal to Tyrion and bind you to me.” Her heart started racing again. “You will be _mine_. This bond between us will not be denied.”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “Until I am free, My Lord.” She backed away again. His arms felt empty without her in them. “It will have to be. I will not dishonor myself and my father's word by being self-serving.” She wiped at the tears sliding down her face. His heart broke at the sight. He wanted to rage at the Gods, at his father, at _her_, for giving him everything he could dream of and yet it was still out of his reach. “Thank you for the ride, My Lord. I should be getting back...”

He watched her walk to their horses, gather the reins of hers and climb up on the beast. She kicked the sides gently and left him alone in the meadow. Her words were ringing in his head. _Until I am free..._ He would make that happen today, damn it! He was sick of this distance. Sick of this stupid piece of parchment between them. His father would release her from being Tyrion's intended and then he would make her his...

+-+-+-+

She shouldn't have left him in the meadow. She was lost, both in her thoughts and in the woods. She urged the palfrey forward, seeing a break in the dense forest. The eerie quiet of the forest was disturbed by a loud noise to her left. Her head swiveled toward the sound. The pounding of hooves echoed in the thick forest. A herd of deer rushed out, spooking her horse and he jerked, racing away. She yelped in fearful surprise at the mount's reaction and held on as hard as she could. Her cloak flew out behind her, hitting branches on the way. She gripped the reins, yanking to get the scared animal to slow. 

“Calm down sweet boy,” she cooed over her thundering heart. 

He was not listening to her commands. The beast sped wildly through the trees. The opening she had glimpsed before appeared more clearly and Brienne's heart nearly stopped. It was not a clearing at all. It was a cliff. She pulled hard on the reins, praying to every God she could name that the horse would slow to a stop. Her mind filled with all her regrets and things she had left unsaid. She wished she could have given herself the pleasure of savoring Jaime's kiss just once. Now she was sure to die having never been kissed... by anyone. 

The rough waves crashing into the shore could be heard. She pulled on the reins again, this time with all her might and sent one last passionate prayer to the Gods. _Please don't let me die! Please help me stop this beast before we both meet our end! Mother, Father, Warrior, Maiden, Crone, Smith please do not let me meet the Stranger!_

Her silent pleas were heard just in time and the palfrey pulled up short of the edge. Brienne's cloak swung out from behind her and latched onto a branch of a tree that was terribly close to the rocky ledge. She quickly unclasped the garment and took several deep breaths. Her heart was still hammering hard in her chest. Her eyes were filled with tears of relief and her body felt almost limp. Brienne buried her face into the mane of the horse. 

“Thank you, sweet boy,” she whispered. “I promise to get us out of here and get you a juicy apple for not taking us both over the ridge.”

She eased herself from the horse and wrapped her arms around her middle. She was shaking from a combination of fear and relief. She could not believe how close she came to such a gory end. It would be her fate to find out she was mated and bonded to one of the most handsome men in all of Westeros, only to die from falling to the rocky depths mere moments later. She started laughing at the absurdity of it. Her life felt like one big mummer's play. Werewolves, betrothals, mating bonds, death and sacrifice... _Come one, come all to watch as Brienne of Tarth fumbles her way through the trials set before her._ She laughed again. There was nothing really to laugh about and she felt like crying just as much, but she didn't shed a tear. Brienne pressed her lips together to smother the ridiculous laughter. 

Bending at the waist, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her body down. She should never have come to Casterly Rock. She should have found a way to run from her duties. Mayhaps she could have found work as a hedge knight or she could have jumped on a boat and become a pirate. It would have been simpler than her life was right now. She would never have known the great secret of the ruling noble Houses. She would never have been torn apart trying to do what was right by her people while her heart and body begged her to _just give in_. She would have never known what it was like to desire someone so much it reached the point of madness. 

She would never have been so flustered by a touch that she could not think straight. Brienne would have spent her life only seeing the world in muted ways, never knowing how many color she was missing out on. She would have never seen the beauty of a full moon dancing on the fur of her mate. _Her mate..._ Why did that come so easily to her? How could she not question it even a little? How could she just know deep in her heart that it was the truth? Knowing the truth made all the moments with him make sense. It was like lifting a veil from her eyes so she could see clearly. She sighed. It would have been so much easier if her father and Lord Tywin had betrothed her to Jaime instead of Tyrion. She shook her head. It was foolish to think about it now. She looked at her cloak flapping in the ocean breeze and tried to reach for it. The material swayed from her grasp and she moved a little closer to the tree.

She was so close to the edge of the cliff. If she leaned too far, she would meet the rocky depths below. She swallowed and stretched her body as far as she could. Her feet slipped on the loose rocks and slick grass. Brienne tried to find something to help her steady herself. Just as she feared that she had not escaped the cold grip of the Stranger's hand after all, a pair of arms wrapped around her. She was yanked back against a solid body and taken back several steps away from the edge. 

Her heart was pounding from the near fall and from the embrace. She knew it was a male. She knew _which_ male. Her senses were flooded with the bonding scent. He angled his head. His lips against her ear. As if on command, her blood heated and a fluttering started low in her belly.

“There are easier ways to die, wench,” his voice was raspy, a low growl. He moved his lips from her ear to the sensitive skin of her neck. “A piece of cloth is not worth your life.” The words were not said in a kind way, there was a heat to them. He was angry at her. “You would leave me without my mate for a _cloak_? I can buy you another!”

“That is not a just a cloak,” she replied. “It belonged to my mother. You can't buy me another cloak with as much meaning.” She looked at the waving fabric. “Please tell me you understand, Jaime. This is more than just a garment to me.”

He let her go and she felt cold without of his touch. He moved to the edge of the cliff and her heart jumped. She felt her stomach roll as he reached out to grasp the cloak in his hands. Brienne heard the rocks shift under his feet in the way they had under hers. She rushed forward just as he stepped back with her cloak in his hands. She swallowed the lump in her throat. He came to her side and placed the fabric around her shoulders. He looked into her eyes and she knew that, no matter what, she was his in the way he claimed to be hers. 

“I understand, My Lady,” he said softly. “I can not lose you, Brienne. I have just found you, but I understand why you would be willing to risk it all for something that belonged to your mother. I know the pain of losing someone so important.” She nodded, the tears swarming her eyes. “But I beg you, do not leave me. Let me help you.”

“I did not know where you were,” she whispered. “I thought I was alone.” Her body started shaking from all the emotions she was feeling. “I am used to being alone.”

“You do not have to be alone anymore,” he pressed his lips to her temple. “I am here. I will protect you and stand by you.”

He was making promises to her that she should not want. It was wrong, not just because of her betrothal to Tyrion but because she was a maiden. How could he want her when he had been with Cersei? How could a Lady of minor nobility entice a gallant knight and werewolf? Especially a knight who had laid with the beautiful Queen? She pushed back the insecurities. They were silly and she knew the answers anyway. The wolf knew her, recognized her, and the man, against all odds, wanted her. And she wanted him, so badly she _ached_ inside. 

“Thank you, Lord Jaime,” she whispered. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. This was the tone of her desire and she knew he recognized it. His hands traveled slowly up her back underneath the cloak. Little tremors and rivers of fire followed his fingertips. “I would surely have fallen if not for you.”

“I would never let you fall, Brienne,” Jaime said. “You are back to calling me by my title. Seeing as we are mated I feel that it is simply a wall you wish to place between us. A foolish act when I _know_ your need for me. I feel it in your touch, smell it on your skin, taste it on the air.”

“Must you...” she licked her lips, his eyes dropped to them. “Must you remind me of my weaknesses?” 

“It is not weak to want,” he moved his head closer. Their lips almost touching. She could tell that she would not have the strength to stop him this time. He was so warm and she was desperate to be in his embrace. His kindness at getting her cloak back made her knees feel fragile and unable to hold her up. If he was cruel and sneering, Brienne might stand a chance, but he was not as she first thought. She had also come close to death twice on this day and she did not want to die without knowing his touch, even a little. “We are bound together, Brienne. Our fates are intertwined.” 

“I should disagree. I should push you away as I have in the past,” she angled her head and leaned in. He was not the one to push her, she was the one to make the move. Her mouth was as close to his as she dared. She wanted his kiss on her lips, but she did not know how to start. She was lost in the woods with the wolf and she wanted to have his mouth on hers. She wanted to be selfish and give herself over to the passion that was between them. “I know this will only lead to ruin, but I have been frightened by the thought of never knowing how you would feel in my arms. I do not wish to be scared any longer...”

His eyes widened and his lips parted. “My Lady,” he whispered and pressed his lips to hers. The flames that were consuming her blazed hotter. She felt as if the world melted away and all that remained was them. The touch of his mouth to hers, however soft, was enough to make her swoon. His lips opened slightly, pulling her plump bottom lip between them. She sighed into his mouth. She did not know what she was expecting him to do, but this slow slide of lips against lips was more than her mind could take. Brienne wrapped her hands up in his locks, cradling his head and surged forward. She needed more. She needed to be devoured and to devour him. She craved him so much and yet she did not know how to ask or how to proceed. His large hands gripped her hips tightly to hold her to him. She could feel the evidence of his passion for her trapped between them. The hard length of him pressed into her belly made her shake with need. Brienne made a whimpering sound in the back of her throat. The fire searing through her settled between her legs. She was _aching_. Every light touch of his mouth sent another shock-wave through her. Jaime growled low and dangerous. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. Their breathing was harsh, panting and gasping. “I want to take you, Brienne. I want to claim your mouth and body and heart. If I were to kiss you as I want, I would not be able to stop. Just the soft press of you is too much.” She whimpered again. She knew how he felt. Wasn't she just thinking the same? 

“I feel like you are in my blood,” she shook her head. “I can't deny you and I need to.” 

“I know you believe that we have to deny what is between us, and for now I will,” he cupped her face. “But I will not be without you for long. I know what you feel like in my arms now Brienne, and I will have you in them for the rest of our days.”

“Jaime,” she sighed. “I feel like I have made a mistake by kissing you. I do not know how I will go back to pulling away when we will be close to each other. How can I be in the same room as you and not want to be with you? Your father will not let me out of this betrothal. Our fathers have agreed that Tyrion and I are to be wed. How can you change his mind? I get the impression your father does not change his mind easily.”

Jaime sucked in a breath. “I will fight for us. Just believe in me, Brienne. Believe in the bond between us... we will find a way.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. “I want to believe, Jaime. I want to believe that we are meant to be because I have never known a passion like this.”

“Neither have I, my lovely mate,” she arched her eyebrows. “I know you think what I had with Cersei could compare with what we have, but it was nothing. It was a single candle while what we have is a wildfire.”

_A wildfire_ she nodded her head. Yes, that was exactly how she felt. She felt like she was burning alive in wildfire. The green flames of his gaze lighting her ablaze. She touched his lips with her thumb. “We should get back,” she whispered.

He kissed her thumb, right over the scar and she shivered. “Soon, My Lady,” he said so softly she almost didn't hear it. “Soon we will be one.”

+-+-+-+

Jaime walked into his father's solar with determination. Tywin looked up at his son. He was not surprised to see him, he had been waiting for this conversation. He leaned back in his chair as Jaime stood nervously at the door. Tywin bit back a smile. He could smell Brienne on his son's skin. 

“Father,” he moved further into the room and sat in the chair in front of his desk. “We need to speak about Lady Brienne.” He arched a single brow and clasped his hands over his stomach. “You need to release her from her betrothal to Tyrion. She is _mine_ and I will have her.”

Tywin pressed his lips together. “What makes you so sure?”

“You know the reason,” Jaime growled. Tywin sat up straighter and arched his brow again. Jaime settled down, taking several deep breaths. “She is my mate. I know you know that. Tyrion knows. Brienne knows and we will be together. With your blessing or without. I will take her back to her island and protect the land myself if you are too stubborn to release-”

Tywin held up his hand, “Save your tirade for someone who cares to listen. I will release her.”

“You...,” Jaime swallowed. “You will?”

“I have spent many moons believing you would never find your mate,” Tywin stood and walked around the desk to stand over him. “Especially after you were with your sister. I figured you were too damaged for any young maid to want you. But your wolf proved me wrong.” He walked over to the window and looked out at the sun setting over the Sunset Sea. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Selwyn declaring my intention to break the marriage contract between our Houses. I made sure to let him know that the Lannister support would not be withdrawn and that I would like to revisit the idea of uniting our Houses at a later date.” He turned back to Jaime. “The letter made it clear that another Lannister male was to be asking for her hand soon. You will not muck this up, Jaime!”

His son could barely hold in his smile. “I will not, father!” He stood and walked over to the door. “I have a maid to see.” He paused. “Have you told Tyrion?”

“Your brother will not fight this,” he said with confidence. Tyrion was planning something. Tywin had seen his son sneaking around and he was going to have to deal with that soon. “He knows you are mated to the Maid of Tarth, he has known for much longer than _you_. He also has his own mate.”

Jaime's face tightened. “You have given me what I desire, and I am most thankful for that; but I ask that you do not make Tyrion pay for my felicity. Please let him be happy with Tysha.”

“I can not condone my son marrying a low-born servant,” Tywin said sharply. He would never show it, but he wanted Tyrion to be content. He just couldn't allow his son to sully their family name by being married to such a woman. “I will do what needs to be done.”

“She loves him,” Jaime said. “He loves her. He has done everything you have ever wanted. While Cersei and I defied you and went against your wishes, he learned to be a great Lord so that he could impress you and did as you asked, no matter what the task. Please father,” his son urged. “Remember that.”

Jaime left him with his thoughts and Tywin returned to the window.

+-+-+-+

Jaime stood at her door. His body was pulsing with joy and his wolf was nearly jumping under his skin. He lifted his hand and knocked on the wooden surface. Brienne opened the door and stared at him. He pushed into her chamber and wrapped her up in his arms. She hesitated a moment then melted into his embrace. He inhaled deeply and his heart pounded out a single word. _**Mine!**_

She pulled away and opened her mouth, “Jaime...”

“You are _mine_, Brienne of Tarth,” he growled deep in his throat. “My father has released you from the marriage union.” Her heart thundered so loudly he could hear it. “Your island will not lose the Lannisters' support and we can be together.”

“You spoke to your father,” she looked at him in awe. “We... Jaime...” 

He captured her lips with his and kissed her hard. She was flustered by his kiss. Her inexperience showing as she fumbled through the motions. He moaned deeply, wrapping his arms tighter around her. Her innocence was flooding his senses. He spun them so that she was between his body and the door, pressing himself into her. She pushed against him. Her body was shaking and he knew they were very close to going too far. He forced himself to break the kiss. She panted into his mouth, staring at him with wide eyes. The wolf in his chest howled at the connection being formed between them.

“I will not claim your body now,” he kissed his way across her cheeks to her ear. “But I will. I will have you in every way.” Brienne shivered at his words and a wave of her arousal hit him. “And you will have me.” Jaime cupped her face in his hands and forced her eyes to stay on his. “You are mine and I am yours.”

She swallowed and her eyes darkened further with her desire, “You are mine and I am yours.”

Jaime kissed her hard again then released her before he threw her onto the bed and took her. He knew he could have her. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but he would not do that to her. He would not turn his mate into a whore. He would woo her and treat her with respect... but he would also remind her that he desired her and when she was truly ready, he would take her to his chamber and claim her fully.

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	7. Boil, boil, toil and trouble...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tyrion sat at the table with all the ingredients in front of him. His heart was oddly calm. He thought that he would feel more, that he would feel something. It was a huge step. He sighed and moved over to a well-loved chest at the base of his bed. All of his treasured belongings were resting in the wooden depths, carefully packed away from prying eyes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I say this every time but I need you all to know how much it means to me that you all read this little werewolf story. It's an obsession of mine and I'm constantly excited to see that others feel the same. Thank you to anyone that has recommended this story on other sites or to friends. I am blown away when I see that. Your words and encouragement bring me so much joy. Thank you all for taking the time.
> 
> *-*-*-*-*-*-*
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, Merrymaya! She listens to me worry about silly things and keeps me motivated when I hit a dark spot. I don't know where this story or any of my others would be without her holding my hand. Thank you for putting up with me. And for the beautiful banners that are so special. Also please go check out her stories! Every thing she writes is brilliant. I am her biggest fan! (https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/pseuds/merrymaya/works)
> 
> *-*-*-*-*-*-*
> 
> Thank you to Ro Nordmann for the beautiful art work. I absolutely adore it! She also has an amazing story! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500058/chapters/48649883 ). She also has another story that is a collab: (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493683/chapters/48632951) These stories are incredible. Please go read them. They are fantastic!!
> 
> *-*-*-*-*-*-*

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/181950571@N02/48562085956/in/dateposted/)

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Tyrion sat at the table with all the ingredients in front of him. His heart was oddly calm. He thought that he would feel more, that he would feel something. It was a huge step. He sighed and moved over to a well-loved chest at the base of his bed. All of his treasured belongings were resting in the wooden depths, carefully packed away from prying eyes. He moved some tattered books aside and pulled out a small journal. The weathered black leather was cracking and the pages inside were yellowed, but it was the words he needed at the moment. 

He opened the book carefully and ran his finger down the first entry. His body became overwhelmed as he read the words he had read a thousand times before:

__

> _Joyous news! The maester has told me I am with child again. Tywin is most pleased. He is already making the servants nervous with his hovering and demands. My Lord husband worries too much. This babe will be a blessing. Jaime and Cersei are at my heels asking questions about when I will give birth and what it will be like to have a younger sibling. _
> 
> _The light in Jaime's green eyes as he stares at my belly is truly amazing. He knows so much for someone so young. He whispers that he will protect this cub with all his might. I believe him. Cersei worries that I will not love her as much. It is a silly notion. She is my baby girl. My golden beauty. I reassure her every day that no one will ever take her place in my heart. My love for her will never falter. _
> 
> _As I lay in bed and write this with my loving mate at my side, I can't help but smile. My life is good and my heart is full. The Mother has blessed us with twins and now She has blessed us again. I feel deep in my heart that this cub will be special. This babe will be kind and strong. I do not know how I know this, but I do. Tywin has asked me if I believe he will be holding another precious girl, but I just smile to myself. I have had dreams of holding a boy. I even have a name- Tyrion. Tyrion the great. _
> 
> _My heart is bursting. It really is joyous news! I can not wait to see you, my sweet babe._

Tyrion closed his mother's journal. When he had first found it, first read it, the words had made him bitter. He had thrown the book across the room and cried tears of anger. He had never been seen as a blessing. He had been looked at as a monster by all that had ever laid their eyes upon him. Everyone except Jaime, Tysha and Brienne. 

His brother- the one that promised to protect him- had always been proud to call him _dear brother_. He had lived up to his whispered words and had always taken care of him. Tyrion had always felt safe in his presence. They were friends as well as brothers. Many a night Tyrion would sneak into Jaime's bedchamber and ask for a story. Ask to stay because the real monsters were in the shadows waiting to get him. Jaime would never turn him away... except when Cersei asked him to- which became more frequent as they got older. Tyrion did not blame Jaime for his choice. Cersei was his twin. They had shared years together before Tyrion had ever been a thought. He knew that he would always be the odd one in the triad. But Jaime tried. He loved Tyrion and Tyrion loved him. 

Tyrion had been convinced he would never have another person's love...until he laid eyes on Tysha. Tysha with her soft smile and innocent brown eyes. Her sweet laugh and enticing scent. She was both his dream and nightmare because he wanted her and because he thought she would never want him. The first time she had touched his hand had been by accident. A sweeping graze of fingertips as she handed him a plate. The lightning that had shot through his arm had given him pause and he had held his breath. When he had looked into her eyes, she had been as shocked as him. Her cheeks had blushed prettily and her lips had curled into a wistful smile. 

That's when he had known. That's when he had claimed her as his mate. His wolf had recognized her as his soul's other half. It was like seeing with new eyes. Everything was clear and bright. The night that he had found out about his betrothal, he had gone to her chambers and stood outside her door. Tyrion's heart had been racing and there had been sweat coating his palms. His life had been spiraling out of his control and he had needed to tell her everything. He had raised his hand, fist aimed at the door and... he had lost his nerve. It had been by the grace of the Maiden that she opened the door before he left. Tysha had stood there in her simple night shift with a robe over the material and he had melted. 

Every time he was with her, he wondered what she saw in him. What was it about him that called to her? He never asked. He was scared to hear what she would say to him. It was silly and foolish and he knew it. He knew it because she loved him. She had told him that she loved him and he knew she was telling the truth. He knew it without using his abilities. He knew it because he _felt_ it in the way she looked at him, touched him and spoke with him.

The connection he felt with Brienne had been a surprise. She was nothing like he imagined. Her kind heart and wicked tongue was a delight. She was just what he needed, a true friend that _saw him_. She did not see his status, or lack of one in the eyes of his family, or his monstrous looks. She was a true and rare gem in a world filled with fake ones that only shined in the light. Brienne shined brightly in the light and the dark. He would miss being connected to her, but he was happy for his brother. Jaime deserved to have someone who wanted him without guile. 

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts and he placed his mother's journal back in the trunk. He grabbed the old burlap sack next to some letters he had collected and closed the lid. He turned to the door, “Come in!” Brienne opened the door and stood in the entryway. Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, pulling at the flesh. “Brienne,” he smiled. “Please enter! I was just thinking about you.”

She smiled uneasily. “Only good things I hope.” She hesitated a moment longer then stepped through the door. She moved to the edge of the room, hovering over the table with all the ingredients he had gathered. “Are you planning to make something?”

Tyrion smiled tightly. “Just something I wish to try. I have told you my transitions are painful...” She nodded in agreement. “I am hoping that some of these herbs and roots will help. I have been researching for many moons to find an easier way to transform. This,” he waved to the mix of items, “is my last hope.”

Brienne eyed him with sadness. “I hope this works for you, Tyrion.” She looked around her and moved over to a chair in the corner. He took a sit on his bed not far from her. “I have come to tell you that my feelings for your brother have progressed.” She stared down at her hands, pulling hard at the material of her split skirt. “Your father has released us. We are no longer betrothed...”

“Aye,” he nodded, a small smile curling his lips. “I am most happy that my dear brother has finally told you what we have all known. He is your mate.” She slowly nodded in response. He tilted his head and pursed his lips. “Are you not happy to be mated to Jaime?”

“It is not that,” she rushed to say, her large blue eyes grew even wider. “It is that... What I feel...” She inhaled sharply and looked away from him again. Her hands moved more roughly against her knees. She gnawed at her bottom lip, bringing blood to the surface. Her pulse fluttered in her neck and he counted the beats. Finally, she turned back to face him. “I am overwhelmed by him.”

Tyrion sat further back on his bed and arched his left eyebrow. “Jaime has always been a passionate man. He fights hard and loves hard, it does not surprise me that he is just as passionate as a mated wolf.” He rubbed at his jawline. “It makes a great deal of sense actually. Our wolves are an extension of us. We are one. Jaime's natural instinct would be all-consuming.”

“Are you... I mean I have seen you with Tysha and you two never seem as out of control as Jaime and I are most days.” She closed her eyes and winced. “I do not wish to offend or compare... I am just...”

“It is fine, My Lady,” he soothed. “As I said, our wolves are an extension of us. I have always been more reserved in my passions- I am no less passionate, mind you- but I have learned to lock them away. You must remember, Brienne,” he sighed. “Tysha and I have a forbidden love. We can not act as freely as you and my brother have been able to.”

“I am sorry, Tyrion,” she looked devastated for him and his lady love. Her eyes filled with sorrow. “I wish our plan had worked. I wish I did not feel so strongly for your brother...”

“You do not wish that, Lady Brienne,” he admonished, softly. “And I do not wish that for you or Jaime.” He reached over to touch her hand and ease her movements. “My situation has always been complicated. The fact that you would even dare to help me was a gift from the Maiden herself and I thank you, my friend.” He released her hand and smiled at her. “I will be most pleased to call you my good-sister.”

She blushed and her big lips parted in a bashful smile. “He has not asked for my hand, Lord Tyrion. We are still trying to figure out this thing between us.” Brienne took a deep breath. “I have a question for you...” she paused, her nervous energy was so strong he felt just as jumpy. “I know about Cersei... and your brother...” He waited, holding his breath. “I do not wish to cause problems, but I...”

“You want to know what they were like together,” he supplied. She tensed and nodded sharply. “What has Jaime told you?”

“He told me about their relationship and how he had always believed they were mated to each other,” she shifted in her chair. “I do not know why my curiosity has gripped me so... but I do know that what they felt for each other was intense and the Queen does not care for me already.” She shifted again. “I don't relish the idea of being the cause of her ire.”

“I fear you have earned it without even trying,” Tyrion said truthfully. “Cersei has been jealous of anyone who tried to touch Jaime's heart since they took their first breaths in this world.” He paused and wondered if he should tell her the cold hard truth or make it more easy to digest. One look in her eyes gave him the answer. She needed to know what she was walking into and who she was about to fight for Jaime's heart and body... even though there wasn't a fight to be had. Jaime and his wolf were enamored by Brienne. Cersei could not change that. But she would try. “Cersei does not handle losing very well.”

“I am not trying to win,” Brienne was quick to say. “I never wished for Jaime to bond with me. I was and am as surprised as anyone, especially with the way we started.”

“You speak with a rational brain, Brienne,” he told her, edging closer to the end of the mattress toward her. “Cersei does not see the world that way. She sees it in two clear ways. One is working in her best interest. The other is causing her harm. Jaime being hers works in her best interest. Jaime being yours causes her harm. It does not matter if you wished or willed it to be true, it is as it is.” Brienne nodded, her eyes troubled. “What worries you so? It can not be Jaime's commitment. He is mated to you now and he was falling quite hard even before that. I think you were a vexing wonderment to him even before he came to terms with his true feelings.”

“I do not question his desire,” she blushed a deep crimson and looked away. “He has made his intentions clear. I just know that sometimes the bonds of family can be stronger than any that the body craves. I do not have a sibling that breathing the same air as I, but I have seen how close your family is and I suspect being a twin makes that bond even deeper.” She met his eyes briefly and closed her mouth, her thoughts racing across her face. “I worry that the words you have not spoken will be worse than the ones you have.” He arched his left eyebrow and she looked away again to stare out the window. “There are rumors about many people. You and I share tales of monstrous looks and being half of who we should be - you a half-man, me barely half a woman. Your sister is the subject of some rumors as well.” Tyrion nodded in agreement even if she still wouldn't look at him. “I have heard that she can be cruel and I have experienced her anger. Yet I foresee that if she truly feels threatened by my relationship with your brother, what I have seen will be nothing in comparison to what will come my way.”

“You are smart to think this way, Brienne,” she turned her head and looked less than pleased that he was agreeing with her. She must have been hoping he would fill her with stories of his sweet sister's good qualities, but in all his nine and ten years, he had rarely seen any to speak of. “I wish I could calm your fears about my sister, but I simply can not. She is as mean as a viper and just as deadly when threatened. I have earned her hatred many times over for no bigger crime than living while our dear mother turned to ash and bones. This did not even account for the few times Jaime dared to defend and love me while she cursed and condemned me. I always had a small piece of Jaime's heart and that made her hate me all the more. You, my dear Brienne, have more than a small piece of my brother's heart. You hold it all.”

“I... we have not discussed such feelings,” Brienne shifted on the seat and wrung her hands over and over. “We have not talked in terms of love.”

“Do you claim to not love Jaime?” He asked quite seriously.

She went completely still, barely breathing. “I think I love him,” she said quietly. “I know that I find myself constantly lost in my thoughts of him, but what I feel is almost too much at times. I drown and can barely reach the surface.”

“As I have said, Jaime is passionate.” He smiled at her. “And so are you. You keep your true nature hidden behind polite courtesies and rigid duty, but I have seen your spirit. It is as fiery as Jaime's when provoked. It makes sense that he would bring it out in you. Finding your mate is like finding your other half. It is the mirror of your true self. For Jaime, you mirror his love of family and sense of honor. For you, Jaime mirrors your fighting spirit and adventurous heart.”

“You are gifted with a poet's tongue, Tyrion,” Brienne said with a smile. “Tysha has chosen her mate well. She is blessed to have you as her true love.”

Tyrion did not blush much. He had learned to smother all outward emotions when it came to his feelings for Tysha, but Brienne's words warmed him and made his cheeks color. “I believe we both know I am the one who is blessed. She is light and warmth when I am in the dark and cold. Tysha brings me joy and I can not thank the Seven enough for bringing her into my life.”

“I have not a doubt,” Brienne took his hand and smiled in that crooked way of hers. “She would say the same of you.”

He glanced over at the herbs and roots and thought of his plans. He was doing it for her, for them, and their future... It was the right thing to do. He looked back at Brienne and smiled again. “Yes,” he nodded. “I believe she would. It is for that very reason I know that I am the one that is blessed.”

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Tywin walked in the familiar woods he has known since he was a cub. His eyes were constantly moving and his senses were sharp. He turned toward a slight sound in the distance and his eyes narrowed. He ground his teeth together to stop the growl from escaping. He held his body back from attacking the intruder. He should have known it would not be long before they crossed paths again. His kin had been there for too long now, so the death of the peasant had surely attracted their attention. 

The figure came through the thick trees with a smile on his face. It was not friendly, but neither was Tywin's answering one. The tall, slender Dornish man moved with grace toward him. He was agile even when walking with leisure. Tywin knew it was all an act. The man before him was fierce and quick. He would not kill without being provoked, but he would kill if needed and he was good at it. Very good. Tywin straightened up further. 

“I have been expecting you,” he said with a crisp snap to his words. “I almost feared we were not important enough anymore for you to grace us with your presence.”

The man with a lined face and thick luscious black locks laughed. His thick eyebrows lifted in mirth. “Lord Tywin,” he said with a clear, distinct accent. His dark, almost black eyes were sharp and intense. “I believe you know that your pack will always be important to me and my kin.” He wrinkled his pointed nose in thought. “I hear congratulations are in order for your youngest pup.”

“I am afraid you are mistaken, Prince Oberyn.” Tywin moved closer to the hunter. “Tyrion and Lady Brienne have ended their union.”

Oberyn's eyes turned even sharper, “Have they?” He shook his head as if in sadness. “A pity. When I heard of the betrothal, I must admit it caught my attention. She is but a minor Lady. Not really one I would believe the great Lord Tywin would want in his pack. She is not a werewolf, yes?”

“She is not,” Tywin tensed a bit. This was why the hunters arrived. Brienne. “She is from a great House, however.”

“Tarth is quite beautiful,” the hunter said. “I have been there many times. It is very close to Essos and is filled with unique treasures.” Oberyn's posture tightened a little. “She is quite unique herself, I believe. A woman that can handle a sword better than most men and the kind heart of an innocent maid. She is the perfect combination of soft and strong. I have met her but once and was rather taken with her spirit.” Tywin felt his blood boil. He knew of the hunter's lusty reputation and his power of seduction over young women... and men. “Lady Brienne knows about you?”

“She knows about what we are,” the Lannister patriarch said cautiously. “She is aware of the pack.” Tywin moved around the hunter, circling him slowly. His sense of smell reaching out to see if they were truly alone or if the man before him brought along other guests. He could find no one. This did not surprise Tywin. Oberyn was deadly on his own. The nickname _The Red Viper_ was earned and respected. “You seem very interested in the young lady residing in my home, why is that? Are you in need of a new lover?”

Oberyn laughed again, this time much more honestly. “I am always looking for a new lover. Ellaria is beautiful and fiery and does not mind another being in my arms. In fact, she likes to watch... and join in. Lady Brienne would be a very welcomed addition. Do you believe she would be willing? Do you believe your eldest would let her?”

“Why would Jaime mind?” Tywin was struggling to not bare his teeth. His wolf was ready to tear this man apart. For his son, for Brienne, and for his own pleasure. Oberyn and his merry band of hunters have been a torn in his side for many moons. He understood why they were needed- a dangerous werewolf was one that would cause issues for all, innocent humans and other werewolves- but he did not enjoy their constant presence in his territory. “Do you know something, Prince Oberyn? Would you care to share your knowledge?”

“Are we playing a game of cyvasse, Lord Tywin?” Oberyn crossed his arms over his chest. His lips curled into a smirk. “I confess to not liking the game much. It is too complex with its many hidden rules. I prefer to be open with my intentions.”

“So then,” Tywin waved his arm in a motion for Oberyn to continue. “Please enlighten me on your intentions. Why have the hunters been here for three moons?”

“You have been aware of my family's presence?” Oberyn didn't look or sound especially surprised. “We came here to make sure the maiden stays safe and low and behold, an innocent was killed during the first full moon she spent here.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes. “We have not harmed her as you can see. She is protected by my pack. Lady Brienne will never be harmed by my hand or by those living at the Rock. She is safe in our home and she knows that.”

Oberyn smirked again. “Can I really be assured of that?” The hunter moved slowly. His thick hair swaying in the light breeze, his olive skin shining as his eyes grew more intense. “How is our dear Queen Cersei?” The change in topics jolted Tywin and he cursed himself for not thinking this through. Of course, he should have thought about his daughter. She was the most volatile of his three childrenand had always been a jealous person, especially when Jaime was concerned. “I hear she is with child...King Robert must be positively _howling_ in excitement.” 

“Cersei's pregnancy is not well known,” Tywin growled. “It is not part of your duties as a hunter to know such things. Spying is beneath you, Prince Oberyn.”

“It is my duty to know _everything_,” Oberyn finally dropped the smile and took a more aggressive stance. “I have not forgotten what happened, Lord Tywin. I will never forget what happened. Your pack has been dangerous for a long time. How many innocents have died by the teeth of your kin?”

“None,” Tywin was reaching his breaking point. Oberyn knew too much and the hunter would harm his pack if given the opportunity. “My pack has protected innocent people from wrongdoing and lived without hurting another for many years.” 

The blackness of Oberyn's eyes seemed to get darker. “We both know that is not true, Lord Tywin. Blood has seeped into the soil at our feet. Death and pain follow your pack. If you had any kindness in your body, you would send that poor girl home to her little island in the sea before she meets her end.”

This time, Tywin did show his fangs and advanced on the hunter with purpose. “Do not threaten my son's mate. Do not make me an enemy, _hunter_.”

Oberyn smiled a winning grin and Tywin realized too late that he let his blood boil too much. He had been backed into a corner and had not been smart enough to recognize it. “Your son has mated to the minor Lady. I just thought Jaime enjoyed her and wanted her. This is much more than what I assumed... Queen Cersei will surely to be pleased with the news. I will be watching to ensure no one but your pack will be hurt. It will be a pleasure to see your pack fall.” He backed out into the woods then stopped. “I was not threatening his mate. I was stating a fact. Lady Brienne is destined to bleed and it will not be by my hands nor those of my kin...”

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Jaime paced the length of his chambers. He was tense and annoyed. Ever since Brienne and he had come to terms with their feelings and she had been released from her betrothal, they had barely seen each other. It had been a week of stolen moments where they were alone for only brief periods of time. He had only gotten a chance to taste her sweet lips twice since that day in her bedchamber. Jaime frowned. It was not for lack of trying. 

The first time happened when he had caught her one morning in the armory, making his heart race. She had smiled shyly and he had crowded her, backing her into a darkened corner. Her body had melted against his as he had placed his arms on either side of her, trapping her between the wall and his front.

_ “Lord Jaime,” she whispered against his lips. He flicked his tongue out to lick at her lips, and she backed away. “Jaime... please.” Brienne placed her hands upon him and he growled in the back of his throat. She shivered. “Jaime... someone could walk in. They could catch us.”_

_He leaned in even closer, “Do you really care?” He moved his face, his nose grazing her skin, inhaling her scent deeply. “Because I do not. I want all to know that you belong to me.”_

_She frowned at him with narrowed eyes, but the blush and her arousal gave away her true feelings. “We are not betrothed or wedded, My Lord.” He growled again. She smothered a smile. “I do not belong to you and you do not belong to me until those happen. As it is, you are merely a man who has trapped me in an armory.”_

_“Oh Lady Brienne,” he nipped at her bottom lip as he spoke. “You are being very unkind and not at all truthful.” He removed his right hand from the wall and traced the length of her neck. Her pulse jumped and fluttered under his touch and he smirked against her lips. “Your body gives you away. Every part of you knows that you belong in my arms, that you belong to me. Teasing me does nothing to change that fact.” He moved his mouth away from hers and she whimpered. Her hands curled into the material of his tunic, pulling him tighter against her. He chuckled against her ear. Brienne's breath caught. “I have missed you, My Lady. I have missed your lips upon mine. It has been entirely too long.”_

_She laughed breathlessly. “We have only been apart for two nights.”_

_“Too long,” he said and his wolf snapped his teeth in agreement. “Did you really not miss me? Did you really not think about my arms wrapped around you, my lips pressed to yours and my body against the length of yours?” He took his other hand from the wall and pulled her flush against him by the hips. His hot and hard erection was caught between them and she groaned. “Did you really sleep easily and not dream of me claiming what is mine?”_

_“You are not playing fair,” she whispered huskily. “You know that you do something to me and you are using that knowledge against me.”_

_“So you admit that you have missed me...”_

_Brienne glared at him without real malice, “Yes, I did, but now I wonder why. You are quite a pain.”_

_He chuckled, bringing his mouth back to hers and tightening his grip on her hips. “Well, my sweet Maiden, let me remind you then.” He pulled his right hand from her hip and wrapped it around the back of her head and crashed his lips to hers. She inhaled, parting her lips and he surged forward. His tongue licked the fullness of her bottom lip before sliding against her tongue. She groaned deeply. He used his tongue to map out the territory of her mouth. He savored the sweetness of her, the best sugary confection he ever had did not compare. She mimicked his movements, following his tongue back into his mouth. He urged her to learn him the way he learned her. She was timid but not unwilling, and he enjoyed the innocence she had. His lungs were burning from lack of air, but he didn't want to break apart. He would gladly die in her arms. Brienne pulled away slowly and he lingered as long as he could. The wolf beneath his skin prowled. He wanted to claim her now, his human side and wolf were in agreement on that. They panted into each other's mouths. “Did that remind you, My Lady?”_

_Her eyes opened gradually, the rich blue of her irises were mere rings around the deep black of her blown pupils. His insides momentarily froze and he lost his ability to breathe. The sight and smell of her arousal was making his brain dull. Jaime needed her. He wanted to push into her. He had never known this type of desire. He had thought at one point that being with Cersei was like drowning in the ocean, now he knew what it was really like to _drown_._

_Her crooked teeth came out to pull her bottom lip between them and he let out a guttural sound. It was a sound that was half growl and half roar, both animals were represented- the wolf he was and the lion of his house. He slammed his lips to hers again, pulling at the edges of her tunic as she arched into him. She started kissing him back with innocent fervor. Her movements sloppy and unpracticed but so fucking sexy he could not stop himself from demanding more._

_“Ahem!” The duo sprang apart. Brienne flushed crimson- the color he would place around her shoulders eventually- and stared at the floor. Jaime turned to glare at the person that dared interrupt them. Addam stood there with an arched brow and an amused smirk. “Your father is looking for you. He sent me to find you. Was I interrupting?”_

_Jaime growled threateningly at his cousin and friend. The red-headed man smirked harder. _He will die,_ Jaime promised himself. _During the next full moon. He will die._ _

_Brienne slid from his arms and away from him and his wolf snapped his teeth. “I should be getting back.” Her eyes would not meet his. “Good day, Lord Jaime.” _

_She left the armory quickly with her head down. He turned toward his friend. “You could not wait a moment more?”_

_“A moment!” Addam laughed to the point of tears. “Is that all you would need? I thought better of you, My Lord! I should think you would need at least two.” _

_“I should kill you.” Jaime said with deadly seriousness. “I should bite your neck and make you bleed.”_

_Addam laughed again, “You can try.”_

Jaime felt his anger rise again just thinking about Addam interrupting them. He would pay his cousin back for the poorly timed arrival. It had taken almost another week before they could touch each other meaningfully again. Between watching the hunters with his father and Brienne's own routine, which he now knew by heart, they had barely met... so he had made it happen. He looked out his window and down at the gardens below. 

He had been going mad without her. The idea of her being so close and yet not holding her was making his skin feel too tight for his body. It was like his soul wanted to crawl out of this vessel and find hers so it could be at peace. To ease the need, he set a plan in motion to see her and sent Tysha with a note to meet him by the swing in the garden at sunset. 

That night, he had waited anxiously for her to appear. Jaime had turned at every gust of wind, rustle of leaves, every change in the air... until her sweet fragrance had invaded his senses. Brienne had glowed in the weaning sunlight. A crown of orange rays back-lighting her body and making her appear to be even more of a gift from the Maiden. 

_ “You wanted to see me, My Lord?” She blushed as his eyes traveled the length of her long body. His lips split into a slow grin. Gods he wanted her! Brienne blushed deeply at his look. She moved over to the swing and took a seat. He walked behind her and placed his hands on her strong shoulders. Her breath caught. He let his hands slide down her muscled back and she shivered. “Jaime...” she sighed._

_He leaned down and whispered against the shell of her ear, “Yes, I wanted to see you, Brienne.” Jaime moved around the swing to stand in front of her, gripping the rough ropes tightly in his hands. He pulled her closer by the strong cords, and she let out a squeak of surprise at being face to face with him. Her grip on the ropes on either side of her tightened. “I have not tasted your lips in many days. I grow hungrier with each passing night away from you.”_

_Her blue eyes widened and her cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. “I know that we have not been able to find time alone, but we have not been away from each other. Jaime, just your hands on me can make me feel like I am sinking beneath the waves,” she replied silently. “When we see each other as we break our fast and during supper... You have touched me with your hands, brushed my skin with your fingertips.” Brienne looked deeply into his eyes. “My skin tingles with awareness throughout the night.”_

_“That is just a tease of what it could be like together,” he placed his lips against her temple and he felt her shake. “Your kiss is what I crave... your body under mine is what I need.”_

_“I can not imagine what it will feel like to be one, if your kiss already causes me to melt so quickly.” He released a pheromone at her words. His wolf reacting and demanding that she react as well. Her breath caught and her lips turned down in a slight frown. “You are not playing fair, My Lord!”_

_“I have not a clue what you mean,” he moved his lips down her cheeks. “We are just talking, My Lady.”_

_She pushed back hard, putting space between them. “You know what you are doing! I am at a disadvantage! You can cover me in your bonding scent and make my mind dull, while I do not have the ability to do the same to you!” She forced him back again and stood from the swing. “I am fighting to not dishonor my name and my family by falling into your arms at every given moment and you... you,” she spun around to face him, her eyes flashing, “You use that dark, enticing scent against me! It is playing with my mind and is unfair to my body.”_

_Jaime moved with a swiftness, backing her into the tall oak tree. “You believe me to be at an advantage? Let me inform you of your hold over me, My Lady.” He trailed a finger down her neck to her collarbone. “I think about you every moment I am awake and dream about you every night while I sleep. I have been hunting you without realizing it since you appeared in my life. You have vexed me!” He pushed his body into hers and her eyes flashed again. “You have clouded my existence with your innocent aroma and strong body. I can not stop thinking about you rising from the water, dripping with diamonds of the lake's offering. Tasting your lips...” he brushed his mouth lightly against hers, “is like an aphrodisiac, mixed with some milk of the poppy and wildfire.” Brienne swallowed roughly. “The world opens and it is almost as if I can taste the colors of a rainbow. Red for the passion I feel when I'm with you. Orange for the fire in your soul. Yellow for the light you have brought into my dull life. Blue for the color of your gorgeous eyes. Green for the jealousy I feel when another is closer to you than me. I can feel them all!” Her hands came up to cup his face and her cheeks blushed deeper. “Brienne, you are not without your own power.” He used both his hands to map out her body. “You are full of it. I am at your mercy. I am at your alter, begging for you to grace me with your kisses and body.”_

_She pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard and soundly. He groaned and growled. His wolf howled. This was the first time she had kissed him, really kissed him first, and his blood was searing under his skin. He pressed her harder into the tree, nudging her legs apart to place one of his between them. She gasped at his thigh so intimately placed against her. Brienne kissed him with even more passion. He matched her intensity. His tongue sweeping against hers, tangling and dancing._

_He could feel her heart racing and her nipples tighten against his chest. His left hand slid up and his thumb touched the side of her breast through the bodice of her dress. She arched into him and a wave of her sweet-smelling arousal filled his body. His wolf urged him to claim her. Take her deep into the woods, mate with her and satisfy this maddening desire. She rocked her hips and he moaned, “Yes....”_

_Her hands pulled at the material of his tunic and her long fingers grazed his overheated flesh. He bit her bottom lip and tightened his hold on her. His slim hold on reality and honor and his promise to not take her before she was fully ready was fading into the haze of his desire. The only part of him that reminded clear was the animal demanding to be joined with his mate. Jaime pulled his mouth from hers and attacked the skin of her neck over her pulse point. The scent of her grew stronger and he was becoming greedy... he needed more. He worked at the laces of her bodice, growing angry that they would not loosen quick enough. _

_Brienne panted into his neck, “Jaime...” He got the tight ribbon to give a little, more skin was revealed and his wolf licked his lips. “Jaime...” she said again. He was sucking at the flesh above her right breast. Her skin was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. “Jaime...” she pushed hard against him and his mouth detached from her. “Stop!” He instantly froze. She pulled her dress back together. “We can not... we... I can not. I have never... and I am not ready.”_

_He cursed himself and his wolf whined. “I am sorry, Brienne.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I moved too quickly and you are right, we can not do this. There is much we have to talk about and I am sorry for pushing you.”_

_“You did not do anything I did not allow,” she blushed and slid her eyes from his. “I wanted you. I still want you. I long for you to relieve this ache in me, but I do not have the experience and I worry you will find me lacking.”_

_“Impossible,” he replied fiercely. “You could never be anything but perfect.”_

_She laughed without mirth, it was a self-hating sound. Jaime wanted to hunt down all those people who made her feel like she was less than them in the past. “You do not know that, My Lord.” She shut down on him. “I know for a fact that I am not like other women you have known.”_

_“You are correct,” he confirmed. His mind began plotting the deaths in detail. Septa Roelle had been a single voice in her head, but now he knew there were many more. “You could never be like the others.” She flinched. “You are so much more.” Her shining sapphire eyes caught his emerald ones. The lack of belief in his words cut him to the bone. “Brienne, if you were like all the other women that I have met, I would not be mated to you. My wolf and I would not have noticed you. We would not have cared to. It is because you are singular and special that I can not resist you.” He held her face gently in his hand. “You were not meant to be part of the crowd, My Lady. You were meant to be _mine_.”_

_“When you say things like that, Jaime,” she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, “you make it difficult to do what I must and leave you to sleep alone.” Brienne licked her kiss plump lips. “You make me feel like I could be beautiful in your eyes and that is not how I view myself. I see all my flaws magnified when I think about who you have lain with. I see where I lack grace and womanly charms. You have told me I hold power over you and the feelings you have blossomed inside of me have clouded my mind but I still question why? Why would you see the world differently with me as your mate? All I can think is that I will bring ridicule to your name. How could the ugliest woman in all of Westeros ensnare the heart of the mighty golden lion. The looks of pity and whispers of jealous women...”_

_“Is this why we have not seen each other as much, Brienne?” He asked in shock. “Are you hiding from what is happening? Are you trying to pull away because you believe that you will not please me?” Her silence was his answer and his plans for those who wrecked her self-confidence grew more vicious. “I curse those that have made you feel unworthy. I wish them ill and would love to bring pain to their door. You are not going to bring ridicule to my name. You are going to make it better. You are the sun. Let those who hurt you burn in your light!”_

_“I do not feel like the sun, Jaime,” she said quietly. “I feel like the moon, pale and in the shadows.”_

_“You feel like the moon?” he held her to him and pushed her head into his chest so that he could kiss her hair. “That is perfect then. I am most myself in the full moon light and I am most at peace when I'm with you. I still see the burning power of the sun in you. But if you do not feel that way, then be my moon. Fill me and give me strength, as I will strengthen you when you feel lost. We will be one. The night's pale light and the wolf that worships it.”_

_She lifted her head and she smiled softly. “You make it so difficult to not stay with you...”_

_He grinned roguishly at her. “Then do not leave.” He slid his hands down her arms. “Come with me. Lay with me. Let me hold you tonight.”_

_“Jaime,” she shook her head. “We can not control ourselves in the open, you really trust us to be alone in a bedchamber?”_

_“I am a knight, My Lady!” He arched his eyebrow at her. “An honorable knight. I would never soil the name of a noble Lady. I only wish to hold you close to save you from the monsters that crawl in the darkened corners of the castle. My sword will be at the ready for when you need it.” He nearly giggled at his words. The double meaning filling him with glee. “You just need to ask for my sword to be pulled from its sheath.”_

_She narrowed her eyes. “You know I can handle a sword quite well on my own, Ser.”_

_“Yes, My Lady,” he tried to hide his grin and appear serious. “I do know that but I still offer my sword whenever you are in need of some help.”_

_Her posture changed, “Am I missing something, Ser?” She arched her eyebrows. “Is there something I should be concerned with. You seem very insistent about me using your sword and while I do not know everything, I do know when someone is being mocking.”_

_“I do not mock you,” he said, finally controlling himself. “I am merely letting you know that I will be your knight in shining armor if you ever require it.”_

_“I learned early in life to be my own knight,” she told him shifting from foot to foot. “I have battled my own monsters since I was able to hold a shield and sword.”_

_He smiled more softly. “Then, Lady Brienne,” he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Be my knight and I will be your damsel in distress.” He batted his eyelashes. “Will you walk me back to my chambers?”_

_She smothered a smile and shook her head, “Can I unmate from you? I believe I have made an error.”_

_“No,” he told her with a wink. “We are one. You are mine and I am yours. You can not turn away from the bond between us. Sorry, My Lady, you are stuck with me.”_

_“Heavens help me,” she mumbled._

_“Indeed,” he laughed and together they walked back to the castle. _

He sighed. It had been hard to leave her at her chamber door that night and every night thereafter. His dreams were turning him into a frustrated man. Now he was reaching the point of wanton desperation. The full moon was drawing closer and his need- both sexually and emotionally- for her was growing harder to ignore. He pushed from the window and sat on his bed. He licked his lips and ran his hands through his hair. Jaime growled low in his throat. 

He leapt up from his bed and rushed toward the door. He needed to see her now. He could not be away from her any longer. It was at the point where only brushes of hands or light presses of bodies was not enough to sate this hunger. His blood was too hot. His body was burning from the inside out. There was powerful waves of passion crashing into him. He once called her his personal siren and he had not lied. She called to him. He opened the door and stalked through the halls. 

Servants moved out of his way, shifting this way and that, as he continued to approach her wing of the castle. His vision was sharp, his thoughts were clear. One destination in mind- Brienne. He sniffed the air and his wolf howled in appreciation of his single desire. She was there. She was close. He knocked once and then entered without invitation. Her blue eyes were wide and she let out a yelp of surprise. His eyes moved over her body, taking in the skin of her shoulders, torso and toned stomach above her light cotton pants. Her night shift was held tightly to her naked chest and his vision went hazy. 

“Jaime!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing in my chambers?” His eyes would not leave the creaminess of her skin with the delicate dots of caramel and small, pale scars. “Please turn around, My Lord! Let me dress!”

He forced his body to turn around and smothered a smirk at seeing a looking glass in front of him. He watched her slowly unfold the gown from her tightly fisted hands and start to pull it over her head. His body reacted immediately at seeing her lift her arms and bare herself unknowingly to him. Her nipples were round and dusty pink. He licked his lips thinking about how they would feel as his tongue flattened against each hardened bud. Jaime had to smother a growl as the light material hid her body from his eyes. 

He moved his gaze from the looking glass before she caught him taking advantage of the placement of the mirror. She huffed from behind him and said with anger, “You can turn around now.” He turned around with an innocent look on his face and she pursed her lips. “Now answer my questions! What are you doing in my chamber? Why would you enter without invitation?”

“I confess it was not my best notion, but I was out of my mind with want.” He moved closer to her and she evaded him. “I needed to speak with you. I needed to touch you and sate this hunger that is under my skin.” Brienne stopped moving away from him and he caught her in his arms. “Ah, yes, I am feeling more balanced already. Please, My Lady, do not hold on to your anger. I am just a man burning with unleashed passion for his woman. For you.”

She inhaled deeply. “You are dangerous, My Lord. You use your words and that scent to lure me to you.” Her hands came up slowly to rest on his shoulders. “You said you needed to speak to me, what is it that could not wait until morn?”

“I feel it necessary to let you know what it will be like with me as your mate,” he pulled her with him to the bed. She hesitated in his arms, but he insisted. “I will not do anything to you, my wench.” She glared and he smiled at her winningly. “I just want to hold you as we talk. I need your body pressed to mine and your scent filling my lungs.”

“Again with words that leave me feeling lightheaded and weak. I find myself falling into this abyss more deeply with each one. You have to know what you do to me, My Lord,” Brienne sighed. “I know the words you want to say will be important, but I do not trust that it will end with you leaving me unravished. We have come too close and I have my own confession,” she paused and shifted from side to side. He waited with baited breath. She finally sighed, “I do not know if I will have the strength to push you from my arms if we fall prey to our basic needs.” 

He sat on the bed and gently pulled her down beside him. “I promise, My Lady.” Jaime leaned down with her in his arms. Her head pillowed on his chest and he ran his hands through her hair. “I will not do anything that will bring you dishonor... well, other than come to your room in the middle of the night.” She tensed up. He kissed her head. “I will not let anyone cause you harm and no one will speak of this, but I needed to be with you.”

She slowly relaxed in his embrace and nodded against his chest. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“The full moon is coming,” he said as he continued to comb his fingers through her hair. “It is but a sennight away and I will start to get more aggressive in my pursuit of you.” Brienne shivered at the thought. “My animalistic side will start to take hold more firmly and I will be stronger. I would never do anything to harm you, Brienne, but werewolves have enhanced sexual needs during the days leading up to the full moon. I will want you more than I do now and that is more than I might be able to handle.”

“How will you control yourself if you are already so weak with need that you came to me on this night?”

“We will have to think of ways to protect you from me,” he turned his head and spoke against her hair. “I will request from you to lock your door and refuse to open it under any circumstances, especially to me. I will try to stay away from you as best as I can, but I am sure that my sanity will crack. You have already brought me to my knees.”

“You have said you felt attraction to me before,” she tilted her head up and their eyes met. “I never had to worry about you intruding in the middle of the night in the before, what is different now?”

“The first full moon I was able to use another to stop myself from coming to you.” She tensed up again. “Cersei will never enter my arms again, Brienne. It will only be your body next to mine.” Her teeth bit at her lip and she nodded. “The second full moon... you were not open to being near me and I had not mated to you completely yet.” Brienne's eyes darkened a little and her body relaxed. “This moon phase I know what you are to me. We have bonded and my wolf will want to mate with you more than ever. He will demand I claim you in every way.”

Her breath caught. “What is it like?”

“To mate?” 

“Yes,” she picked at the material of his shirt. “What is it like to be with a werewolf?”

He licked his lips and thought about what to say. He finally closed his eyes and pressed closer to her, beginning with, “Sex between werewolves is more than just a physical release.” He moved his hand from her hair and slid it slowly down her back. “When with a bonded mate, it is about connecting body, soul and mind. We are one. We are perfect. We also can not be apart from our mate immediately after.” 

“I do not understand.” Her eyes clouded and her teeth worked harder on her lip. “Why can't you part?”

Jaime became uncomfortable. He did not want to scare her with what he was about to tell her. He knew how innocent she was. He knew she did not know the touch of a man and this would be much more than that. He swallowed and said, “Have you ever seen a dog mount another?”

Her eyebrows came down in a frown that mirrored the one on her lips. She started to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because as a werewolf, I am as much a wolf as I am a man,” he knew he was close to losing her. He prayed to the Seven that she would not reject him. He did not think he could take her turning away from him. “I need you to understand all that it means to be with someone like me.”

She sat up and moved further up the bed, resting her back against the elegant wooden headboard. He moved to sit beside her. She looked down at the space between them and reached over to take his hand. He released the breath he had just realized he was holding in. “I am ready.” She nodded to him. “I have seen such things.”

“When dogs are joined, the male can not separate from the bitch for many minutes. If they try to pull apart it will cause pain to both, but especially the female.” Her heart started pounding so hard he could hear it. “There is a reason for this. And though it may sound scary to hear about, it will bring both partners pleasure. The act is about being close and connected. Brienne, we will be whole. Two pieces of a broken soul linked together.”

“You are...” she licked her lips and started breathing heavily. “You will... you have... when we mate it will be like that?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It is apart of me and when I take you, I will want to be inside you for as long as I can.”

“Will it hurt?” Brienne tightened her grip on his hand. “When you were with your... with the Queen?”

“I do not know,” he admitted. At her look, he sighed. “I have never been this intimate with Cersei. Our moments together were always rushed and did not allow for me to fully mate with her.”

“I thought... you just said,” she slumped down and turned her gaze away from him. “You told me that you believed she was your bonded mate before me...”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you never...” she looked around the room, clearly uncomfortable.

“Knot my dear sister?” she winced and he turned her chin back to him. “Our relationship was not one that allowed for such moments and I have never experienced this desire with her. My wolf has to want to mate as much as I do and he never wanted to with Cersei. I was the one trying to make our relationship more than what it should have been. I never wanted pups with her and that is the purpose of the knot, to ensure that the couple can bring pups into the world.”

“And you would want to with me?”

His body heated and he cupped her face with his hand to make certain she could see his response. “The thought of you swelling with my babe is incredibly sexy to me. I can not wait to see you round with life that I put in your belly. My body is ablaze with the very idea of filling you with my seed.” She trembled in his arms. “Do you want that, My Lady? Do you want me to take your body and fill it with my seed?”

“Yes,” she breathed out and he kissed her deeply. “Yes, Jaime... I want that. I want that very much.”

“Good,” he whispered huskily against her lips before taking them in another searing kiss.

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Tyrion sat with the maester and watched him make the tonic carefully. He would have to make it himself soon if it worked. He could not always count on a maester to do it for him. His body was filled with nerves and the wolf under his skin cowered. Tyrion felt his pain and wanted to cry himself. He did not want to do this, not really, but it was the only way...

The maester chopped the roots- ginger, mandrake and dandelion- and pushed them into the boiling water on the pit. He kept his focus on adding more or less of each ingredient. “Lord Tyrion,” Maester Hyme inquired, “I have not ever heard of using this mixture to help with sleep. Are you sure you read it correctly?”

“Yes,” he replied, feeling sick and wanting to stop this before it went too far. “It was quite clear in the books that this will help me after I change. You know how my legs do not make it easy to rest.”

“Aye,” the older man nodded. “I do, My Lord.” He looked over the notes Tyrion provided him and smacked his lips together. “It says to let it boil overnight. I will leave it here and we will check the results in the morn.”

Tyrion nodded. “Just please have the vials ready for me before the next moon phase.” He quivered inside. “I will need to take a dose before I turn so that it will have time to take effect.”

“Yes, My Lord.” The other man said with a bow. “I will bottle them up and send them to your room before the end of tomorrow.”

Tyrion left the Maester's quarters and walked very slowly toward his. The animal sharing his body whimpered. His eyes filled with tears. He felt like he was making a large error but he could not figure out another way. This was all he could do and it _hurt_. 

His steps slowed down and he pressed his palm against the cool stone wall. He bent down as the first tear fell from his eye. He tried to breathe more evenly but was finding that hard to do. Tyrion closed his eyes and Tysha's face appeared. He was doing this for her. He just had to remember that... he just had to remember her.

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Brienne woke up with a body pressed to hers. She sighed. He did not leave her as he promised but she could not deny that it was nice to have him so close. His words from the previous night rang in her head. His passionate declarations of lust mixed with the very real explanation of what being with a werewolf would be like. She was scared and would never lie and say she wasn't. But the idea of being so connected to him during and after mating sent tingles throughout her body. 

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him inside her. She felt heat flood her body and she smothered a moan. Her mind filled with thoughts that she should be ashamed of, but wasn't. This beautiful, strong man wanted her. Brienne was taken with the care he showed her. He begged her to lock herself away from him, because he knew he would not be able to control his urges around her. He wanted her to come to him when she was ready to be claimed in every way. It made her heart flutter to think about. 

He pressed his front more tightly into her and she felt his cock settle against her ass. She couldn't quite stop the moan from escaping this time and he grinned into her neck. “Good morning, Brienne,” he mumbled as he trailed his lips up her throat. 

“You said you would leave last night,” she admonished even as she angled her neck to give him more access. “You have broken your vow, Ser Jaime.”

“I am most sorry, My Lady Brienne,” he kissed his way down to her shoulder. “How should I make it up to you?”

“You can leave before Tysha comes to ready me for the day,” she moaned.

“Do you really want that?”

“Yes,” she lied on a sigh. 

He chuckled, “I do not believe you, My Lady, but I will do as you ask.” He gave one last lingering kiss to her shoulder and rose from the bed. She could not stop herself from watching him walk to the door. “Until we meet to break our fast,” he bowed and she laughed. “Good morning and I will see you soon.”

“Good day, My Lord.”

He left her alone and she fell back against the feather pillows. A smile upon her lips that would not slip, she was happy. Yet she could not help the small voice that said she should be wary of the feeling. People like her never got to be happy... but she could hope for a chance at it.

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A raven was waiting for him when he got back to his room. He took the missive from the bird's leg and gave it a piece of bread before sending it off. He sat down and unrolled the parchment.

> _Dear brother,_
> 
> _I am wrecked and in need of you. My precious babe has been born too early. His eyes stared unseeingly into the abyss and he was gone before I even had a chance to love him. He would never have been as perfect as if he would have come from you, but he was sweet to look upon. _
> 
> _My grief has made me long for the comfort of the Rock. I need my dear brother. I need you to be my knight and chase this pain from my heart. I can't breathe. Robert is no comfort. He has done as he always has before and drank himself into a shell of a man. Please, dear brother! Please help me. _
> 
> _I will be arriving at the Rock after the moon phase. I will need my twin to hold me as I cry for the pup that is no more. You would have been happy to see that the Lannister looks were strong even with it being Robert's seed. A crown of blonde. Oh, Jaime! He would have been as fair as you. _
> 
> _Why did the Mother rip him from me?! I will tear down every statue for that cursed God. She is the bringer of pain and heartache. Damn her! Damn her!_
> 
> _I can't breathe... save me dear brother... I need you._
> 
> _Your beloved twin_

Jaime closed his eyes. His heart hurt for his sister but she would not find him so willing to give her the comfort she wished for. He was never going to give her that again. She will have to settle for her twin brother and not her twin lover...

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	8. To Bite or Not To Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaime swung his sword high above his head and felt the reverberations as Brienne met his blow with one of her own. He grinned at his mate. His body singing with want- want for her body and want for the battle taking place between them. She smirked back at him and arched her left brow. He waited, watching her closely. The blunt side of her tourney sword slid down his and she stepped forward. Her body pressed in close to his and he inhaled. The sweet scent of her skin sent his senses reeling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Okay this chapter has been like going into labor a month and a half ago. I have struggled with parts of this section for weeks. I really hope you all enjoy the final result because it's been an ordeal. I want to take the time to thank anyone that has read, left kudos or commented on this story. It's such a simple act, but it means the world to me and I can't show my appreciation enough. 
> 
> I need to stress to anyone that read the birthday gift I did for Ro, this is going to be quite different. That story was a different timeline from this one, so situations will be different. I hope you like it nonetheless.
> 
> +-+-+-+
> 
> Thank you to my patient beta that deals with all of my ridiculousness and continues to be my friend. She is an amazing cheerleader and can talk me down from the highest of writer's ledges. All section dividers are made by her. She is so talented in all she does. I'm so thankful to have her in my corner, especially with this chapter that I feared would never see the light of day. She is also a fantastic writer. Please if you haven't already, go to her page. [ https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/pseuds/merrymaya ]. My personal favorite story is: As unshakable as the plague. So funny!
> 
> \----------  
Thank you to Ro Nordmann for all the beautiful posters she has made for me. They always take my breath away. I also thank you for reading some of my less than perfect first drafts and giving me advice. It helps so much to have a friend I can count on. Her encouragement has been so needed. She also has a collection of wonderful stories that I highly recommend. [ https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/pseuds/Ro_Nordmann ]
> 
> \----------  
Big, huge, giant thank you to: ILikeBlue { https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeblue/pseuds/ilikeblue } and River_Melody_Pond { https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Melody_Pond/pseuds/River_Melody_Pond }. You both have been great supporters of me while I battled with the rougher parts and I'm so grateful!

[ ](https://imgur.com/osScAxt)

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** _Chapter 8: To Bite or Not To Bite_ **

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Jaime swung his sword high above his head and felt the reverberations as Brienne met his blow with one of her own. He grinned at his mate. His body singing with want- want for her body and want for the battle taking place between them. She smirked back at him and arched her left brow. He waited, watching her closely. The blunt side of her tourney sword slid down his and she stepped forward. Her body pressed in close to his and he inhaled. The sweet scent of her skin sent his senses reeling. She took advantage of his slight distraction and hooked her right leg around his, knocking him off balance and sending him to the ground. He grabbed her waist just before he hit the earth, taking her with him

She let out a small squeak of surprise and landed hard on his chest. Air expelled from his lungs in a harsh whoosh. Their bodies came together, her hips against his. She blushed and tried to move but he held on tighter. “Jaime,” she panted- both from their battle and from their current predicament. “Let me get up. I am too heavy to be laying on you as I am.”

Her comments made him press her closer. “Do I appear uncomfortable, My Lady?” Jaime pushed his head off the ground and kissed her skin, licking at the sweat. “Do I look as if I want you to move?”

“Jaime,” she sighed, her hands slid down his sides. “This is not a good idea.”

“Maybe not,” he growled into her neck. “But I do not care.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. The deep, dark intensity of her desire was easy for him to find. She swallowed roughly and shifted. He let out a moan as her movements settled her hips more intimately against his. She blushed harder. He chuckled softly. “Do not act as if you did not know that I want you.” His right hand traced the curve of her spine and came to rest just above her ass. “I have made my intentions clear.”

“It still astounds me though,” she ducked her head to break eye contact. “I know you have chosen me. It is a fact, but my head is still confused as to why… why when there are others more beautiful and have more to offer than I, why would you and your wolf select me?”

“Brienne,” he tipped her chin up so he could gaze into her eyes again. “I can not explain the heart. Our bonding was written in the stars. The fates knew we were meant for each other. This connection between us does not have to do with titles or beauty, it has to do with the fact that we are two halves of a whole.”

“But would you not prefer a beauty on your arm?” She asked hesitatingly. “You have spent your life loving a woman considered to be the most lovely among us… and now you have pledged yourself to one that is considered the most beastly… you must know how people will pity you for your choice.”

“There was never a choice, Brienne,” he said and she nodded, hurt flashing in her eyes before she dropped them from his to hide it. He sighed and sat up, taking her with him. She tried to move off again but he held firm settling her on his lap. He tried to focus on the conversation and not how nice it felt to have her there. “I have never been good with words and I think my lack of talent with them has made you hear what I did not mean to say.”

“You said the truth,” she commented. Her voice was controlled and tight. “We did not choose each other. It was a plan of the Fates. If all was different, you would still be besotted with Queen Cersei and I would be nothing but an ugly face in a sea of many.”

“No,” he said fiercely. “I do not believe that. I think we would always be. In a hundred different lifetimes and in a hundred different worlds- we would always find each other.” She shook her head, denying his words. “You do not believe me?”

“I want to,” Brienne picked at the material of his tunic for something to do. “But it is hard though when I have lived in my own skin. Words are wind, My Lord, but wind can harm. It can bruise the skin and words can hurt the heart. My heart has been rendered black and blue from things said by others.” She touched his chin. “Your words are like a balm and I’m scared to enjoy the relief too much.”

“Do not fear, My Lady,” he kissed her lips softly. “I wish I could punish all the people who said an ill word against you. I would start with myself. I wish I could take my own cruel comments, burn them to ash and bury the remains in the dirt. I can not, however. I can only treat you better than I have and use every day to prove that what we have is real and the only truth that matters.”

She smiled, cupping his face in her hands, “You say you are not talented with words, but I believe you are mistaken, My Lord. You are very talented.”

Jaime held her hips gently in his grasp and grinned seductively at her. “I am also well versed in other things, would you like to find out what they are?” Her expression changed from soft to scandalized as he rolled his hips into her. Jaime grinned as her brilliant blue eyes narrowed at him for the action. “We are alone, my sweetling, just us and the sky.”

“We can not,” she said unconvincingly. “You know that we must wait.”

“And you know that my hunger for you grows more with each day.” He flipped them so that she was resting on the grass and he was over her. “The moon’s pull is strong. Only four nights until the full moon will rise again. I can not wait for you to _feel_ it, my mate. It will sing in your blood as it does in mine.”

“How will I feel the pull, Jaime?” She asked breathlessly. “I am not a wolf. I have no connection to the moon.”

“I can turn you,” he brushed her hair from her neck, looking at the smooth flesh. Would he bite her here? Or, his eyes drafted down her body to her chest, there? Oh the she had many places he wanted to bite and lick… “I can bite you and bring you fully into my world. I can give you the freedom you crave, would you like that? Brienne, do you want to be like us?”

She stayed silent for a long while. Her eyes locked on his. He could see her thinking about what he had just said and his heart began to hammer against his ribcage. Too much time passed. Her body turned stiff against him. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through his golden locks. “I have always wished to be free of these bonds of being a Lady. My looks have given me few graces. My father wished to make me smile and gave me much more than most could ever dream of having. I learned to dance with a sword because of that,” she started to drop her hand, but he held it against his cheek. “I do wish to be with you completely, but I am not sure if it is my destiny to be a werewolf.”

“You want to stay a human,” he asked feeling like she had knocked the wind out of him. He would never have believed this would be her response. In his mind, he had envisioned the moment he would bring her fully into his world, now…now that could be gone. He waited until his heart wasn’t slamming into his ribcage and his mind wasn’t struck dumb. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run with her. He wanted Brienne at his side… but she didn’t…how was that possible? _I can convince her,_ he thought. _I have time._ “Brienne,” he cupped her face with the hand not holding hers. “I will do as you wish. If you do not want the bite, I will not give it to you, but please think about it.” He leaned down and kissed her slowly. She moaned softly into his touch. His body warmed and he pressed more firmly into her. 

Breaking apart, Jaime rolled onto his back and pulled her against him. “Does it hurt?”

“I will not lie to you,” he combed his fingers through her hair. “Some have died from receiving it.” She jerked away from him, her eyes wide with fear. Her face went white and he worried she may pass out from the thought. He slid his hands down her back to keep her close to him. His arms became steel around her so that she could not give into the fear that was coursing through her. “But you are strong and you have royal blood in your veins. You will survive and you will run at my side.”

“Your father told me the same,” she said quietly, her voice weaker he had ever heard it. “He spoke of Kings in my family and how there may be traces of werewolf blood coursing through my body… but I am human, Jaime. I do not feel the same as you. I never would have known about this life had I not been chosen by your father to marry your brother. I would have lived my life on a tiny island in the middle of the Narrow Sea without ever being aware of the truth.”

“Do you wish you still did not know?”

“No,” she replied without hesitation. “No, I’m glad I know. I’m glad that I am with you.” He grinned at her, leaning over to kiss her crooked nose. She sighed. “This feels too good to be true.”

“Meaning?”

“Do you not worry?” Brienne asked. “Do you not feel apprehension at being too happy?”

“Your mind is too full of things that can take this away from us,” he said gently. “Do you not want to enjoy the happiness as it is? Do you only wish to dwell on pain that may never come?” He shook his head and kissed her cheek softly. “My wench,” he whispered against her skin. “Do not spend precious time on what could happen. This bond between us is strong and will hold true.”

She moved to rest her head on his chest. “I would never have believed you to be a romantic, My Lord.”

He chuckled. “There are no romantic notions floating in my head. I am merely faithful to the feelings inside me. I trust my wolf as I trust my sword. Neither have failed me. I know, as I know the sun will rise in the east tomorrow, that all will be as it should be.”

“I wish I could settle my own mind with such certainty,” she commented.

“If you are feeling lost,” he went back to combing his hands through her long hair. “Look to me and we will find the path together.”

He felt her melt against him. He had only seen a glimpse into her past. He had only heard the harsh words of one of her tormentors and he knew many more were in her mind. Jaime promised himself that he would pick up his sword and battle them all with her. Together, they would slay the ghosts of the people that hurt her. He would make his mate believe in _them_.

+-+-+-+

Tyrion sat down heavily and looked at the vials in front of him with apprehension. The tiny bottles were filled with a murky liquid that looked like dirty water and smelled like horse dung. He picked one up, looking at it. This was his answer. This was what he had to do. There was a soft knock on his chamber door and he quickly moved the bottles out of sight. 

“Come in,” he called out, careful to keep his voice even. Tysha opened the door and stood silently in the doorway. “You need not stay away from me, my love. I will never do anything to harm you.”

Her eyes widened and a soft smile settled on her lips. “I know, My Lord.” She stepped closer. “Did the maester make it?”

“Yes,” he nodded, pulling one of the bottles from the drawer he stashed them in. He held it out to her and she took it gently in her hand. She pulled at the cork stopper and immediately wrinkled her nose at the smell. He mimicked her reaction with a much grander one and added gagging. “It is quite strong.”

She closed the vial back up and shook her head. “Please, My Lord,” she pleaded, “rethink this. I don’t wish for you to be harmed. Not for me.” She placed the bottle on the table and looked down at the floor. “I’m not worth it, My Lord.”

Tyrion sighed and took her hand in his. The wolf under his skin whimpered at seeing her so upset and knowing what was about to happen. “You are worth this, my love.” She looked into his eyes, silent tears began falling from hers. He reached up to wipe them away, grazing her chin with his thumb. “I will not lie and say I am not scared but I would move mountains to be with you, or I would die trying.”

She shook her head again and fell to her knees in front of him. “Do not die and leave me alone.” She pressed her tear streaked face into his neck, holding him close. “I could live without you if I knew you were alive in the world. I would not be able to survive if you weren’t.”

“And I would not be able to survive without you,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “I will do whatever it takes to be with you. We are meant to be. Our souls are connected.”

Tysha pulled back, “As you are connected with your wolf. Please rethink this.”

For the first time since they met, Tyrion lied to her and said, “I will, my lovely Tysha. I will think about this some more.”

Tyrion had never felt more vile than at that moment. With her in his arms and the lie still on his lips. He hoped she would understand one day… he hoped she would not hate him for his deceit. He hoped he would not hate himself. He was doing this for them. He was risking it all for them. That would never be wrong. And as much as it scared him to live without his wolf, the other part of him, he knew that being with her was worth giving up everything.

The wolf that had always been his companion whimpered and dropped his head submissively under his skin. Tyrion felt the breaking of his beast’s soul, but he also felt the resignation. His fateful friend, the part of him that was strong when he was weak, understood. The creature forgave his human half because he loved Tysha too. 

It still felt like a suicide. Each small vial of potion another goodbye, another willful parting of ways. Tyrion was making a choice and some day, he hoped he would find peace.

+-+-+-+

The sun’s blinding rays kissed her wet skin as she leaned back against the tub in the well-lit bathhouse. Her eyes closed and she let the hot water untangle the knots in her shoulders and back. Jaime’s earlier words were repeating in her mind. She had so many questions and had naught an idea of where to go for the answers. For generations, the Lannister family had been marrying and mating within their own kind. From what little she could surmise, humans were not seen as potential partners. Every mate or lover before her had been aware of the dangers and excitements of being one with another werewolf. They had grown up dreaming of running through the woods with their love at their side and feared nothing that came with that.

But she was not so lucky to have that knowledge. Everything about this world was new and she was confronted with her fragility more and more. She almost laughed harshly to herself. Fragile. Who would ever accuse the Maid of Tarth of such a thing? She had always been seen as brutish and manly; hardly- if ever- described as delicate and womanly.

With Jaime though… with him, she felt like a woman. She felt innocent and wanted. Her body longed to know his in every way. She dreamed about touching him and _being_ touched _by_ him. Her mind was filled with fantasies and wishes of things she had no knowledge of, but wanted so badly. The ache in her breasts and core was something she had never experienced before. Brienne wanted to be filled with him, she felt empty without him… Which was strange because she didn’t know what it would feel like to have Jaime moving within her. 

Her hand slipped down and grazed an erect nipple. She gasped and looked around her. Her face flushed hotly and she slipped further under the water until her chin disappeared under the surface. Her breasts tingled and she shyly touched them again. Her body sang a tune she had never heard before. It was a melody of desire and she was finding it easy to dance to. Her fingers lightly pressed against her nipples. The pressure was barely a flutter, just enough. She closed her eyes and Jaime appeared in all his glory. Wet and golden. Skin glistening, muscles strong. He walked toward her, the water rippling and parting for him. 

Brienne bit her lip, her touch becoming more adventurous. His green eyes, bright and shining, held her hostage. She got lost in the emotion there. Want, real and demanding, called out to her. His hands replaced hers on her body. His large palms cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples gently. She moaned, arching into his hands. He leaned over her, his hard body covering her.

Her hand slid down her toned stomach to the patch of hair at the apex of her thighs. Her long fingers hovered over the mound and she bit her lip even harder. She was aware, even lost in her fantasy, of where she was and how anyone could catch her… The thought of being watched made her stop and open her eyes just a little. No one but her was there and that emboldened her to continue exploring. Her index finger brushed the bundle of nerves and she gasped out loud, unable to stop the sound. Her body bowed in response to the grazing of her blunt nail against that sensitive nub. Brienne waited before going further, listening to make sure she was still alone. 

No sound could be heard, just her pounding heart and labored breathing. She dipped her finger into the wetness of her core. Her mind continued to wander, its daydream of Jaime with her expanding further. His lips brushing hers softly. A tease of the passion simmering between them. The fire curling inside of her blazed hotter. So hot she was sure the water around her would start boiling soon. 

“My mate,” he hissed against her lips. “You are mine…”

“Yours,” she whispered out loud to the empty room. His roughened palms slid down her sides to her hips. She began to pant harshly as his thumbs touched the dips of her hipbones. “Oh Gods…” Her finger brushed against her bundle of nerves again.

“Do you know how much I want to claim you?” His voice was rough and sent a shiver down her spine. “I want your legs wrapped around me as I push into your body. Do you want that, my lovely wench?”

“Yes,” her hand moved more urgently against her sex. “I want that.”

“What do you want?” Her eyes snapped open and she looked behind her. Jaime was there, leaning against the wall and watching her. Her stomach dropped and she tried to subtly remove her hand from her body. “No,” he said. His eyes were sharp and she had never felt more like prey with him. He removed his clothes and she stopped breathing. His body was perfection and made the Jaime in her mind look like a child. This was not a painting or statue she had glimpsed in her youth and blushed at seeing. This was a man. A man that was strong and real. Flesh and blood. She wanted to turn away… or she knew she _should_ want to turn away, but she couldn’t. His manly form was more than she could handle. “What are you thinking about, Brienne?”

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. Her eyes traveled down his body. The play of his muscles under his skin was a sight to behold. When she made it down to his erect manhood, her entire face flamed and she turned away. The water shifted around her. Her breath caught and her arms wrapped around her upper body to shield all her flaws from him. And she had many. She had too many. His hands pulled her arms from her body.

“Do not hide from me,” he said with a heat she had never heard before. “Let me see you. Let me look at you.” She shook under his gaze. “You are beautiful.”

“I am not,” her voice came back. She could not let him lie to her. Not about this. “I am too big and too manly. A beauty is one thing I am not.”

His green eyes locked with her blue ones. “You always talk negatively about yourself. You do not see the same woman I do and that will have to change.” He pulled her from the bench and pressed their naked bodies together. Her nerve endings came alive and she felt every fine hair on her body rise. “Brienne, I am telling you, you are beautiful.”

“Jaime,” her eyes dropped from his and landed on his cock. She flushed and closed her eyes. “Please…”

“What were you thinking about when I came in?” He asked again, spinning them around so that he was sitting on the bench and she was in his lap. She swallowed roughly. His manhood was pressed against her stomach, hard and hot. “You said you wanted something? What was it?”

“You,” she moaned as his hands gripped her ass to press her closer. “I want you.”

“Oh, Wench,” he leaned close, his lips against her ear, his breath whispering along her skin. “You have me.”

He touched her gently, his fingers feather-light against her nipples. Brienne felt like she had been dipped in wildfire. The pads of his thumbs brushing back and forth against the sensitive tits. She let out a low moan that seemed to come from someone else. It was breathy and needy and deeper than any sound she had ever uttered before. Jaime made another pass over her nipples with his thumbs, adding a little bit more pressure. She dropped her head against the slick skin of his shoulder, inhaling deeply. He removed his right hand from her breast and trailed it slowly down her stomach. His fingers tracing the grooves of her muscles and the curves of her body. Her heart was racing. Need, stronger than anything she had felt before, coursed through her. 

“I have dreamed of touching you like this,” he breathed into her temple. “Your body pressed into mine. My hands caressing you. You have been in my fantasies since that day in the lake,” his index finger ran up and down her warm slit. “I have had nights where I’ve woken up screaming your name.” He pressed into her and she jumped. Her body tensing with the feeling of having him inside her only a little. “You have no idea how much I want to plunge inside your body. I have thought about pulling you from this castle and hiding you away. It could be just us in our own little world, with you in my arms and my cock buried inside of you. I want to know what makes you moan,” he curled his finger and she did just that. “I want to know what makes you cry out.” He slowly started to pump his finger, thrusting with no urgency. Her body was flaming hotter and hotter with each movement. “Brienne,” he licked up the side of her neck to take her ear lobe in between his teeth. “I know you don’t want to be a wolf, but my wench, this is so intense. I can hear the fluttering of your pulse.” He added a second finger and she cried out at the added pressure in her most intimate place. 

“I can smell the sweetness of your need. So tempting. You are so tempting.” She felt his cock grow in size against her belly and her stomach tightened. Two fingers were almost too much, how would she take him plus his knot inside of her? Fear warred with desire. The dark scent- his mating musk- filled her mind. She moaned deeply. Her body growing more relaxed in his arms- even only slightly. “I could tell you were nervous. I can always tell the difference in you, but now, my wench, don’t you feel it? Our connection. You are growing more comfortable with my touch.” He started moving faster inside of her and desire began to edge out fear. A fog was taking hold. She could barely think. Her whole being was focused on him and what he was doing to her. She longed for more- for whatever came next. She wanted him so intensely. “Oh, fuck, Brienne,” he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her hard. “You are everything to me. So sexy.” 

She felt a tightening in her core. A rolling sensation that began slowly but built quick. His thumb rubbed circles on the bud at the top of her sex and her mouth opened wide and took a perfect round shape. She couldn’t stop the moans from being released. It felt like there was a whole new world just out of her reach. She pleaded with him to help her… but she didn’t know what she needed. 

“Please, Jaime,” she held his face in her hands. Tears gathered in her eyes, “Please.”

“I know, my mate,” he hummed to her. He flicked her nipple and her clit at the same time and it felt like a string snapped inside of her. She went still as the unfamiliar pleasure took hold. The fog was getting worse and the heat in her core was so much more than she could ever have imagined. “I can see everything, Brienne. The way you are right now. I can _see_ how your body is reacting to me. The water sliding down your throat and over your breasts,” he licked his lips and she gripped his shoulders tightly. “How your blood is rising under your skin… You’re blushing for me. Hot. You are burning. Yes, Brienne. I can smell your desire. The dark honey dripping from you. I want to taste you, my sweetling. Do you want that?” She whimpered, her body moving more demandingly against him. “Everything is clear. All I see is you. Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to feel everything more distinctly?” The waves of her completion continued to assault her senses until she was weak and her mind was dull. “That’s it, my lovely. Yes,” he kissed her temple, his teeth grazing her flesh, “Yes, so sexy.”

Her peak and his scent had her feeling like liquid in his arms. Nothing could touch her. She was floating and it took her several moments to find her body again. Her thoughts came back to her slowly, but they were heavy, as if a weight was pulling them away from her and she started to shiver. She looked into Jaime’s emerald eyes and swallowed hard. He was eyeing her, his white teeth glinting. Her heart jumped then started racing. She had seen him with passion in his gaze before but this was different. This was _primal_. This was the wolf. Brienne knew she should be scared by that ferocity but she wasn’t. It was exciting to see the animal inside the man and know that she brought that side out of him. She touched his cheek gently. He rubbed against her palm as if painting her with his fragrance. Their eyes were locked, neither was blinking or looking away. 

“I…” his voice was a rumble in his chest. Deep and alluring, dark and thrilling. His hands gripped her waist and yanked her flush against him. The part of him that was in need trapped between their bodies. She swallowed again. The danger clear now. He was losing control. The rope holding back the beast was snapping and she was locked in the creature’s sights. Brienne shifted on his lap to get away, unintentionally rubbing against him more intimately and he growled. “Don’t. Move.”

The words were spoken in a sharp tone, between clenched teeth. The green of his irises was nearly gone. Only black remained. He tightened his hold on her again and she gasped in slight pain. There would be bruises where his fingertips bit into her skin. He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring. He leaned down and dragged his teeth along her throat. She felt his mouth open slightly and the tip of his canines touch her neck. She didn’t need to be a wolf to see what was happening inside of her mate.

“Jaime,” she tried to bring him back. “Jaime,” she said a little louder. He slowly raised his head from her neck and shook it as if trying to clear the madness from his brain. The grip on her sides lessened. His lips closed over his teeth and he stared at her. Her touch on his face became a caress, “Jaime…”

He looked deeply into her eyes and she noticed a change. He lifted her off of him, placing her on the bench. His hands were shaking as he rubbed them down his face. She watched him closely as another chill claimed her. A shift was happening but she didn’t know what. She still couldn’t think clearly. He stood quickly, water splashing up and over the edge of the tub with the swift movement. 

“I have to go,” he said as he walked away from her. His back was stiff and his gait was jerky as if he was fighting to do as he said. “I can’t be here with you.”

Her blood turned to ice and she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Was it that bad?” she whispered.

Jaime spun around, his eyes flashing. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His lips curled in a way she hadn’t seen since they first met, when she believed that she was repulsive to him. He had revealed the truth to her, but her instinct was always the same. She was wrong- in looks and manners. That was what she believed then and what she was struggling with now. There was anger and hatred in his face, but this time- _this time_\- she knew that it wasn’t directed at her. She could see they way his hands shook, even while clenched at his sides. The emotion was pointed at himself. Pieces came to her. He was fighting a battle and she was watching from the side. The realization finally hit her full force. All romance aside, her mate was part animal. And that animal was fighting the human for control.

“I have to leave,” he said again, almost running from the tub. 

He gathered his clothes quickly and left her alone. Brienne pressed her lips together to stop the tears from falling. She had never felt as incomplete as she did right then. It felt like there was a hole in her, a gaping emptiness that she had never known before. She buried her face in her wet hands. His words came back to her. _Everything is clear. All I see is you. Don’t you want this? Don’t you want to feel everything more distinctly?_

_No,_ she thought. _This pain is leaving me feeling empty inside and I feel it with a human’s heart. If pleasure could be so intense, agony would be as well. Why would I want to feel that? Why would I ever wish to know this torment more acutely?_ Her humiliation warred with simmering anger inside of her. He tried to use her feelings to manipulate her into the bite. How could he do that? And then leave her so quickly after…what they had done. She told him she didn’t want the bite. But he wasn’t hearing her. Would that be how their union was? Would he use his power over her to get what he _wanted_ because she was too weak to resist him? 

The fog induced by his scent finally lifted from her mind completely. Her anger gathered with more intensity and she grimaced. Jaime Lannister would not manipulate her! She would not be with a man who refused to listen to her objections or try seeing her as an equal. Mate or not, she would not do that. A new desire took hold. Brienne didn’t want to be here any longer. She removed her hands from her face, slamming her palms against the surface of the water. She wanted to leave. She wanted to escape this place. 

She walked over to the edge of the tub and rose from the water. She was not betrothed any longer. She didn’t have to stay in the Lannister’s home. She could return to her life and her home and… mayhaps, eventually she could forget about the man who made her heart race and drove her to the brink of madness. Brienne dried off quickly and dressed in a simple split skirt and tunic. She did not bother with smallclothes. Her mind was on one thing- by the end of this sennight, she would be back on Tarth. 

No matter how much it hurt to think about being away from him. Jaime could not get away with trying to use their connection against her. And she will not be a puppet in his mummer’s play.

+-+-+-+

Tyrion was storing away the final vial in the secret section of his drawer when the door to his chamber opened behind him. He quickly shut the drawer and spun to face his brother. Jaime’s face was milky white and his body was shaking. Tyrion’s eyes narrowed in worry. “What is wrong, dear brother?”

Jaime sat dejectedly on the bed and placed his head in his hands. He let out a shaky breath and then looked at Tyrion, “I will hurt her.”

“Who?”

“Brienne,” Jaime swallowed roughly. “I… I…” he shook his head, guilt and sadness rolling off of him in waves.

“What happened?” He climbed up on the mattress next to his big brother and placed his hand on Jaime’s knee in a comforting way. “I am quite sure you did nothing dishonorable,” at Jaime’s wince, he amended, “_too_ dishonorable.”

“I almost bit her,” he said quietly. Tyrion sat next to him, confused by how that could be bad. Jaime looked away and stared at the wall in front of him. “She does not want the bite. And I…” he paused again, his voice shaking. “I do not think I can stop myself from doing it.” He looked more shaken than Tyrion had ever seen him before. The golden hue of his skin replaced by a gray, ashen color. His eyes were filled with shame and horror. “She has made her feelings known, just today in fact… when we were together, Tyrion… the need was too much. I almost lost control.”

“But you did not,” he said gently. His stomach was tied in knots though. Tyrion knew how strong the bond was between wolf and mate. It was stronger than steel… and he was about to break it. His heart began to ache and his mind wandered to those vials in his drawer. He looked down at his hands and tried to calm his insides as to not alert Jaime about his distress. “You managed to stop yourself, dear brother. She is still human to this day.”

“It is not this day I am concerned with, dear brother,” Jaime growled. “It is the next and the one after that. I have dreamt of her at my side, running with me; and now I discovered that she does not wish for the same. What will become of us if I am a wolf and she is still human?” He stood and paced the floor. “Father will not approve of Brienne not joining us. You know how he feels about keeping our family pure.”

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed at the flimsy reason his brother gave. “When have you cared what father thinks?” His annoyance loosened his tongue. “While laying with Cersei and using me as a cover, you cared not about what he thought or how he disapproved. Do not use him now to justify _your_ desires for a mate that bends to your will!” Jaime winced again but did not say anything. “Just admit you want her to be a wolf, Jaime. It will be better for all if you do not lie to yourself about your motivations.”

“I,” Jaime paused, looking slightly pained. “I admit I had envisioned us being together in all ways. I thought she would want that as well.”

“Why?” Tyrion asked, unrelentingly. It frustrated him how Jaime got everything he wanted without having to sacrifice anything and he was _still_ finding ways to ruin it. Tyrion longed for what Jaime had… and was willing to give up everything for a chance. “Why is this one thing such a point of contention?”

“You would not understand,” Jaime hedged.

“Why don’t you try to explain it to me? I am told I am quite intelligent,” the dwarf said sarcastically. “I may understand more than you realize.”

Jaime sat heavily onto the chair by the large window in his room and looked out the glass. “I never believed I would mate, Tyrion. I thought it was unimportant. I had Cersei and I was willing to do anything she wished to keep her at my side. That is what I believed love was. Cersei’s will was my bidding and I was satisfied in that arrangement. Seeing her happy, being the one to put that smile upon her face, no matter the means was my guiding light.” He turned toward Tyrion and their eyes locked. “Meeting Brienne changed that.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It would. Once you have found your mate it changes everything.” He stopped and eyed his brother carefully. “I have never heard you speak of your relationship with Cersei in quite that way.”

“I know many believe I am the stupidest Lannister,” his older brother said with a sneer. “But I do know my twin. And I knew what it meant to be her lover. I know that she uses people and I am not so blind that I did not realize I was one of those. I just did not understand how much until I was with someone who refuses to lean on me for anything. Brienne would rather cut herself than use another for her own gain.”

Tyrion pressed his lips together for a moment, fighting with himself and his thoughts before finally breaking. “If you have always known, why did you do it?”

Jaime slumped in the chair, “I would do anything for love.”

Tyrion thought once again to those vials in the drawer and sagged a little himself. “I can understand that.”

“You do, don’t you?” Jaime leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His green eyes boring into Tyrion’s. The dwarf shifted under his gaze. “Tyrion…” he sighed. “Do not do something you will regret. I know that you have been looking for a _cure_, but please do not do anything that you can not undo.” He rose from the chair and knelt in front of him, “I will help you.”

Tyrion’s mouth twisted in a cruel intimation of a smile. “Brother, what needs to be done will be done.”

“What…” he stopped as the door of his chamber opened. Tysha stood there. Her eyes were wide and her face pale. Jaime stood and Tyrion climbed from the bed, “Tysha.”

Her big brown eyes looked between the brothers. “My Lords,” she curtsied and then stood quickly. “I have news about Lady Brienne.”

Jaime tensed at his side, “What news…?”

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Brienne stood in the middle of her bedchamber. Her mind slowly settling down now that her decision had been made. She knew this would not go over well with Lord Tywin and she hoped that he would still honor his commitment to her island; but she could not stay in this castle anymore. Her world had narrowed so much since she had come to this place. It was the size of a pinpoint and at the center was Jaime. She did not want to be so focused on a man that she lost herself.

She walked slowly over to the writing-table and sat down. Had it been just a moon ago that she was shaking with fear and shock, ready to leave? Now here she was again with the same desire, but it was not fear propelling her this time. Or rather it was… but a different kind. 

In all her years, she had always understood that duty would keep her dreams on hold. She would never freely be who she wanted to be…who she really was. Being with Jaime, she had gotten a taste of freedom. He saw her. He would never hinder her love of swordplay or her longing for adventure. He seemed to enjoy it when they sparred and she landed a blow he was not expecting. He especially liked it when she would do a move that was slightly out of the norm for her by doing something more than necessary to win the battle. His green eyes would light up in a mischievous way when she did something unexpected. She thought she had finally found someone that would not want to change her…

But she realized now how wrong she was. Brienne curled her hands into fists. He would bite her. He would change her if he could. He wanted her to be something she was not, just as others before him had. While those others wanted her to be a proper lady in all manners, he wanted her to be a wolf like him. She did not want to change everything about herself for _him_. She was already giving up so much. She could never be completely honest with her father about Jaime. She would never be able to be completely honest with anyone except those within these walls again. 

Her world would be Casterly Rock and the Lannister pack. The woman that grew up on Tarth would no longer exist. She would be washed away. Locked up in chains she did not know were placed around her wrists until he showed her the cuffs. Being with him in that tub, with her mind dulled and her senses overwhelmed, she had learned the truth. Jaime wanted her but he also wanted to change her. He had used her feelings against her.

_But he did not bite you when he had the chance,_ a voice in the back of her rage-filled mind whispered. _He walked away. He left you as you are._

She paused and closed her eyes. The voice was right. She would not have been able to stop him had he bit her. She had been too far gone, lost in sensation. She had never been with a man in any sexual way, it had been thrilling to have his body so close to hers. To feel his hands upon her skin, his mouth against her neck, his throbbing manhood between her legs. But then he left her… _He left you cold and alone and feeling more exposed than you have ever felt before._

She moved over to the bed and fell on it. It hurt to be left alone after she had been so open with him. _He did not want to leave._ That voice again- her heart, the one that was breaking at the thought of leaving him. The war going on inside of her was draining. Her mind insisted that she needed to go, that this could only end badly if she stayed. Her heart taking the other side and begging her to stay and talk to him. Urging her to give him a chance to explain and for them to reach an understanding.

_No!_ She shook her head firmly. She needed to go. Maybe some distance would be good for both of them. Mayhaps the separation would clear his mind of her and hers of him. Brienne felt gutted at the idea. Pain unlike anything she had ever known ripped through her. It was like a sword through her stomach. She braced herself against the agony, and pulled her trunk from the corner of her room and opened the latch. With jerky motions, she gathered her clothes from the closet and began to place them on the bed so she could fold them.

A knock at the door made her pause. Her heart jumped. There may be a small chance that Jaime was coming to finish what they started in the tubs. She closed her eyes to steady herself when she started to sway a little. Her blood was rushing so quickly through her body, she felt a little weak. The weakness was pushed aside by a simmering rage at herself. She shouldn’t still want to see him this badly. She was going and it was best they did not see each other again. It would only confuse her more. Brienne blew out a slow breath and walked to the door. Her mind was coming up with a hundred different things she should say, could say, and wanted to say to him if he was the one standing on the opposite side of the wood door. 

Her hand shook a little as she opened the door and came face to face with Tysha. The petite girl smiled at her warmly. Brienne tried to smile back but knew the expression was less than successful. 

“Mi’Lady?” The older woman walked into the room and looked at the trunk opened on the floor and the clothes piled on the bed. “Are ya goin’ somewhere?”

Brienne walked back to the bed and began folding the items to place them in the trunk. “I am returning home to Tarth.”

“But…” the handmaiden paused. She looked back at the brunette and saw her twisting her hands together in worry. “Has something happened? I don’t wanna to speak out of turn, Lady Brienne, but I thought ya were with Lord Jaime.”

At the mention of his name, her insides tightened and her heart jumped into her throat. She opened her mouth to explain but found she did not have the words. How could she complain to Tysha about her mate wanting her to change while her handmaiden could not even love hers openly? She felt selfish and stupid. Tysha loved Tyrion and only wished to be with him, while _she_ was allowed to be with Jaime and was trying to leave him behind. The tightening in her stomach intensified.

“Lady Brienne,” Tysha walked over to her when she did not respond. “Did something happen? Did Lord Jaime hurt you?”

“No,” she said hastily. “We just…” she sat back down on her bed and crumbled up the tunic in her hands. “We want different things and I see now that those differences will only become more important later. Lord Jaime is a wonderful man but he wants his mate to be a wolf.” She loosened the hold she had on the cloth and sighed, “And I do not want to be one.”

“You do not want to receive the bite?”

“I,” Brienne looked at the woman in front of her. “Do you? Jaime has told me of some dying from the bite. Does that not scare you?”

“Fear is apart of life as is dying,” Tysha said with a half shrug. “I have faced both in my small amount of time. Tyrion does not scare me and I don’t fear dying in his arms. But Lord Tyrion and I have a different love than you and Lord Jaime do.”

Brienne’s heart jumped again at her using the word _love_. She swallowed roughly and looked away. She had never let herself think in those words. It should not be so shocking and she could not understand why it made her sweat a little. She was mated to him. She had all but given her body to him. Why did the thought that she could give him her heart scare her so? 

_Because once you give your heart to him, he will claim everything,_ that voice was becoming annoying. _You are not leaving because you fear him. You are leaving because you are scared of losing yourself to him._ Brienne started shaking and her stomach lurched in a violent way. Had she been alone right then, she would have run to her chamber pot and released all the contents of her belly into it. 

“Lady Brienne,” Tysha’s voice seemed wrong and far off. Colors and shapes swirled in front of her and she swayed on the bed. “Do ya need the maester?”

“No.” Did she sound as wobbly as she thought she did? “No, I need to get home to Tarth. I need…” She blinked her eyes, willing herself to stop feeling so uneasy. “I do not belong here.”

“I am going to get Lord Jaime,” Tysha rushed from her bedchamber before she could utter another word. 

Brienne felt her panic rise. She closed her eyes and tried to even out her breathing. She needed to find that previous anger she had felt before, so she could stand firm in her decision to leave. If she didn’t, she would crumble. She knew she would. She still did not want to be a wolf, but she did want to be with Jaime. And that need to be with him will be her undoing… she was sure of it.

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Jaime stomped angrily through the halls of Casterly Rock. His body a mess of rage, fear and heartbreak. She was trying to leave and she was going to do it without giving him a chance to explain. The muscles of his shoulders were tight, coiled and ready to spring. He usually only got this way before a battle for his life. And he guessed in some ways, this was what that was. 

He was going into battle with one of the most stubborn, pig-headed and damning woman he had ever met. He turned down the hall toward her bedchamber and narrowed his eyes. He thought back to Tysha’s words and his hands began to shake from all the emotions inside of him. 

_“I have news about Lady Brienne.”_

_Jaime tensed up, his mind flooding with horrifying thoughts. “What news…?” _Was she hurt? Had something happened? You fool! Why did you leave her?__

_“She is packing to leave,” Tysha said with some hesitation. “She wants to leave and return home. I thought you should know, My Lords.”_

_“Leave!” he roared, making both Tysha and Tyrion jump. “Why in the bloody fucks would she leave?”_

_“Jaime,” Tyrion snarled sharply, his mismatched eyes flashing in warning, “Maybe if you calm down Tysha will tell us.” He turned to his mate. The fierceness from before melting away in the presence of the one he loved. “Did she say why she was leaving so abruptly?”_

_Tysha looked between the brothers and wrung her hands together. “She seemed distressed.” She looked shyly at Jaime and he felt his stomach lurch. “About you, My Lord.”_

His feet moved quicker toward her room, his strides long to shorten the distance. The door appeared before him and his blood rushed. He didn’t knock or pause to think, he just opened the door, entering her space. His eyes took in his surroundings quickly. Her trunk was open with most of her belongings piled neatly inside. Her room was nearly bare of anything that was hers. The warmth of life was already being drained from the walls. Jaime slammed the door, turning toward where she was sitting at the writing-table. Her sapphire eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. 

“Jaime,” she hissed softly, her cheeks flushing brightly.

“I never took you to be craven,” he snarled. Her mouth shut and her eyes narrowed into slits. “I guess it is best to find that out now and not as we are saying our vows. It would be quite the scandal to have my _mate_ and betrothed run out of the Sept because she got scared.” His tone was cutting and cruel. It was how he used to speak to her and he knew it would only lead them down a dark path, but he was angry and panic was starting to rise in his body. She was really going to leave him! She was really going to break his soul and sail away with his heart. He lounged on her bed. His left hand resting under his head to appear more relaxed than he actually was. “You run when life gets a little uncomfortable, wench?” He shook his head, his green eyes glaring into her blue ones. “I took you for a fighter.”

The air between them flared as her anger swelled to match his. She leapt from the chair and stormed over to him. Her body looked large as she leaned over him to show her displeasure at his words. He met her gaze, challenging her to prove him wrong. He wanted her rage. He wanted the passion, needed it. He needed her to be present with him. Jaime could not let her go and vanish into the shadows. 

“You call me _craven_,” she growled, wrath making her voice rough and deep. “You are the one who left me alone in the tubs. You are the one who would barely look my way when you were done!”

He moved from the bed quickly. She gasped at his swiftness and took several steps back to put space between them. He kept moving into her as she moved back. They did this across the whole width of her bedchamber. Him advancing and her retreating. Jaime was annoyed. She never gave this much ground when they fought. She always stood toe to toe and snapped back at him. Soon her back was against the rough stone wall and he trapped her in place. His palms slammed on the stones on either side of her head. She glared at him. Daggers were less cold and sharp than her gaze was at that moment. He breathed in deeply. His teeth showing slightly. Her breathing was coming in short gasps, her sweet chest grazing his on each inhale.

“You think I wanted to leave?” He snarled. “You believed I found more enjoyment being away from you than with you while you were naked and on top of me?” His arms bent at the elbow until he was pressed wholly against her. “I misspoke, My Lady. You are not craven, you are a thrice-damned fool.” 

“For once we agree, _My Lord_,” she exaggerated his title. “I am a thrice-damned fool for ever believing we could be anything more than opposites.”

She pushed hard against his shoulders to escape his trap and he moved away from her. He turned toward her as she walked away from him. His body tensing up in the way it did before a fight or before a hunt. His lips curled up a little higher. Jaime was currently in the middle of both activities. He slowly made his way toward her. She spun on him. Her face was a deep shade of crimson, her azure eyes were sparkling, and her strong body was primed for the argument. He took a moment, even while wanting to scream at her, to admire his mate’s spectacular presence. She took his breath away. Brienne was showing him once again how well they matched and that just brought another wave of anger into his heart. How the _fuck_ could she be so willing to give them up? 

“So you do not care about me anymore,” he asked as he met her in the middle of the room. This time she did not shrink away from him. _This_ time, she stood her ground. “So easy to leave the one you claimed to want so badly? I felt you in my arms, Brienne! I know how you look as you break with _my_ name on your lips! Do you wish to pretend I have not touched your body? Do you wish to act noble and pure when we both know that I have slipped my fingers in your-”

“I have not forgotten where your fingers have been, Jaime,” she said as she flushed even redder and she fought to keep eye contact. “I know what happened in that tub. I also know that you were quick to try and manipulate me. I have told you not to use your mating scent against me, but that did not stop you from using it to make me weak.”

Jaime felt like a stallion had kicked him in the groin. He thought back to those moments with her in the tub, recounting her reactions to him in a different way. His heart fell to his feet and he felt his shoulders drop in shame. “Are you claiming I forced myself on you?”

She deflated at that. “No, Jaime,” she whispered. “I know what I wanted. I was thinking about you coming to me long before you showed up.” He felt his stomach untie at her admission. “But you did try and use your scent against me. I felt your teeth on my neck. I know what you wanted.”

“I wanted to bite you,” he said evenly. He would not hide his desires. Tyrion was right. He needed to admit that he wanted her as his mate in every way and that included making her one of them. “I almost did,” he leaned back into her. “Your skin was like fire against my lips. Your blood was calling out to me and I _wanted_ to sink my teeth into your willing flesh as my cock claimed your maidenhead. I think you want that too, you are just too scared to admit it.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You do not understand. You could never understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” He roared angrily.

“I do not want to give up _everything!_” Her voice was loud and broken. He took a step back and stared at her. She was shaking as she moved over to the bed and fell upon it. “I am the one that will end up losing everything Jaime.” He watched as she pulled at the skin around her nails. “My father can never know about us, can he?” He licked his lips and shook his head in the negative. “No, of course not,” she said bitterly. “Because he isn’t one of you. So I am forced to lie to the only family I have left and while he will never know of my deceit, I will never be able to forget. I will lose myself, Jaime, while you lose _nothing_.”

He rocked back on his heels and looked away from her. She was right. She was the one giving up everything while he took all she gave him. And he was desperate to take more than that. Jaime’s heart raced as he thought about all she was saying. Brienne did not want to be a wolf. What did that mean for them? If he got her with child, would she survive? The notion of her dying in the birthing bed turned him frigid. So did the idea of her leaving him. It did not just leave him cold, it left him empty inside. 

“The few humans that have mated and become round with a werewolf cub have not been successful in living through the birth. The thought of you dying, while giving me a babe, makes my blood run ice cold. I concede that the balance is not in your favor,” he knelt in front of her and she looked at him. The look of despair on her face reflected the feelings in his heart. “I know my want for you to be a wolf seems to be based completely in selfishness, but I worry for you. So I ask, what will get you to stay? Should I stay away from you as we agreed to when we did not know we were meant to be?” The color left her face so quickly he worried she would pass out. He rested his head on her knees, “What do you want?”

Her long fingers run through his hair, slowly massaging his scalp. “I want everything,” she whispered. “And I can not have that. I could die giving birth if you were a normal man. We have both experienced that pain. Your mother was a wolf and died giving life to your brother. Mine was human and died giving life to my sister.” He lifted his head and they stared into each other’s eyes for the first time since he walked into the room without anger. There was only desperation. “Jaime, I am scared. Of childbirth, of this world that is still unknown to me,” she paused. “Of the feelings I have for you.”

“I know there is a chance I could lose you no matter if you are wolf or not,” he straightened up and took her face in his hands. “But there is a greater risk to you as a human. I will not bite you if you do not wish it.” She leaned her forehead against his. “I will try and not use the mating scent as a weapon against you. I only ask that you do not leave me.”

“It hurt to think of leaving you, Jaime,” Brienne said honestly. “I was angry and hurt. Why did you not stay with me? I have never been with anyone and you…”

“I was losing control,” he stood and got on the bed, pulling her into his arms. She curled against him. Her warm and supple body fit his perfectly. “I was not lying when I said I wanted to sink my teeth into your throat. I could taste you on my tongue and I wanted more.”

She nodded, “I know.” Green met blue. “I saw you. I saw the wolf in you.”

“I frightened you?”

“No,” Brienne sighed. “I frightened myself. I would have given you anything at that moment. I would have turned my head and given you my neck to feast upon. I do not want to lose myself Jaime, but you are not the only one with barely any control.” He pulled her tighter into him and helped ease her back onto the mattress. “We are never going to agree on this. And if we continue, I know I will be the one that changes because I can not say no to you when you are so close.” Her lips found a sensitive part of his neck and he growled low in his throat. “Even now, Jaime… I want you. I want to feel you against me again.”

“The full moon is coming,” he traced the line of her spine. “I do not think I can resist being away from you and yet, I do not think I will be able to control myself if I am.”

“Then we are back to the start, Jaime,” she buried her face in his chest and inhaled. “Mayhaps I should leave.” He snarled, his blood heating again and he tightened his hold on her even more. “Not for long, just for a little while,” she sighed. “We are both so new to this, Jaime. Neither of us has been mated before. I have never known about it and you did not believe in it.”

“We will find another way,” he promised her.

“How?”

He lifted up and looked around them. A roughened piece of leather that Brienne used to tie her dagger to her leg caught his eye. He turned to her, “Tie me up.” Her eyes widened then narrowed in confusion. “If I can not get to you, I will not break my promise.”

“Jaime…”

“Brienne,” he touched her face. “This is our best option. On the night of the full moon, I ask you to tie me up so I can protect you from all the things I want to do. The wolf under my skin will take control and I do not know if you will be safe from his desires when he does.”

“I do not fear him,” she kissed him gently, slowly. “Or _you_. If I tie you up, you will not be able to run as you love to.”

“I can give up a moon phrase of running if it means you will stay and be safe.”

“You would do that,” Brienne shook her head. “I can not let you.”

“You said I am not willing to give up anything while you are giving up everything,” he stood and pulled her to her feet. “This is what I can give up for you. I am willing to do as you wish and this is the answer. If you do not agree because you feel as if I will be cross with you, fear not,” he kissed her soundly and passionately. “For you I would do anything.”

She searched his eyes, with a blank face, then she rushed forward and kissed him hard. Her tongue tangled with his, her hands combed through his hair, gripping his head. He held her to him. His left hand pressed into her back and his right came to rest on the curve of her ass. She gasped and kissed him even more deeply. He walked them back toward her bed. Slowly moving until her knees hit the mattress. She sat upon it without breaking the kiss. His body warmed even more as her hands slid down his chest over his body. He crawled over her and she inched back. The heat between them was making him sweat. Perspiration gathered at the base of his spine. His mind flooded with images of her naked in his arms in the tub and he growled deep in his throat. The sound rumbled through him as the beast under his skin howled at being so close to his mate again. 

Jaime felt the wolf prowl, waiting for his chance. The fight for domination - him vs the creature- was dulling his ability to think. He wanted her. Gods, he wanted her. His body _ached_ for her. All their fighting, and the memories of her warm and willing against him, had left him feeling like a man drowning. The small slip of reality he was desperately holding on to so he did not give into his urges was falling out of his grasp. The desire of her was too strong. 

He broke the kiss and hung his head, closing his eyes, “Brienne…”

“I know,” her voice caused his stomach to flip and his cock to swell even harder. “I know.” He looked into her large blue gaze and sunk a little further into the void of need. He could hear her heart beating under her chest and his started matching hers. Beat for beat. Her hand caressed his face. “I can not seem to resist you either. I want this too much.”

“The moon will make it even more difficult for me to stop myself from claiming you, Brienne…” he whispered the words against her neck. His mouth pulling at the tender flesh. He kept his teeth from her skin, but it was difficult. The scent of her was overwhelming. He moved from her body before he gave into the passion. She whimpered, reaching for him but he evaded her hands and took several steps back. “I will have the binds brought up to my room and we will ensure that you are safe.”

She bit at her kissable plump lips and his mind blanked. She was effortlessly sexy to him. He groaned and leaned forward to kiss her again. He could not get enough of her sweetness. He pulled her bruised and bloody bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it hard. Her nails curled into his tunic and yanked him on top of her. Warnings were sounding in his head, but they were getting drowned out by the rushing of his blood. Jaime pressed down on her. The angles of his body fit the curves of hers. Brienne moaned and arched up into him. He rolled his hips and her moans turned into a deep rumble in her chest. The scent of her arousal made his head swim. 

Brienne pulled at his tunic, her hands sliding against his heated flesh. He hissed as her blunt nails scraped at the muscles of his back. He was quickly losing control again. His mind was focused on her and claiming what was his. If he did not leave he would not be able to later. He slowly broke their kiss again and stood, taking a couple of steps back. The image she made: hair messed up from his exploring hands, tunic raising up and exposing some of her creamy flesh, ruddy shade blazing across her cheeks… nipples tight against the fabric of her shirt. The fires burning inside of him increased. He was fighting a loosing battle. His eyes jumped from her face, to her body, to the fluttering of her pulse in her throat. His gaze followed a drop of sweat slide down the curve of her neck. He closed his eyes. It was all too much.

“The full moon is a day away,” he opened his eyes back up and she gasped at the growling tone of his voice. He was nearly knocked back at the strong scent of her arousal. She sat up and made to get off the bed. He held up his hand to try and stop her. “I will speak with the smiths about making restraints. I will keep my promise to you, my mate. I will not bite you.” He quickly closed the space between them and kissed her slowly. “If I do not leave now, however, I do not know what will happen. You are a siren, my wench.”

“Hardly,” she said with a lopsided smile. “I am merely a woman mated to a werewolf and we can not seem to think right around each other.”

He grinned, “Yes.” He pushed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “A siren.” His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Calling me out to sea and pulling me under.” He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I will gladly drown in your arms, wench!”

“You are being ridiculous, My Lord,” she laughed. “No one is drowning tonight.”

“Quite right,” he stood reluctantly. “Have sweet dreams, my mate. May the memory of me holding you close and my breath upon your skin stay with you until we see each other again in the morn.”

“Good night, Jaime,” she whispered. “Have the sweetest of dreams.”

“I will,” he walked to the door and turned around. “My dreams are always of you.”

He shut the door behind him and closed his eyes. He would make sure she stays safe from him. He would not do what Brienne does not wish him to do. His want to bite her and make her his would be ruthlessly suppressed. She meant too much to him.

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	9. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The iron was heavy, the chain very short. He would be held tightly. Jaime lifted the shackles and examined them for any possible breaks in the links or the cuffs. He was impressed with their sturdiness and the speed with which the smith had gotten them to him. There was still a chance he could break out of them, especially once he transitioned completely and his wrists were not as thick… He had a plan for that though._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I hope you are doing well and staying safe. I hope all of your families are as well. I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter. It has honestly been one of the hardest for me to write. I am sure most have forgotten about it. 😂 For anyone that cares, I do pray you enjoy this installment. Thank you to everyone that has commented. Each one means so much to me. Thank you for hanging in there with me while I fight with my own anxiety over this part. You are all the best.
> 
> Thank you to MerryMaya for the POV banners and for editing this beast of a chapter. Thank you to Ro for the beautiful artwork. And once again thank you to all that read, leave kudos and comment. You all are amazing and I'm blessed to have you read my story.

[ ](https://imgur.com/osScAxt)

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** Chapter 9: Something Wicked This Way Comes**

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The iron was heavy, the chain very short. He would be held tightly. Jaime lifted the shackles and examined them for any possible breaks in the links or the cuffs. He was impressed with their sturdiness and the speed with which the smith had gotten them to him. There was still a chance he could break out of them, especially once he transitioned completely and his wrists were not as thick… He had a plan for that though. He picked up the stem of the purple bell-shaped flowers carefully, his lips pulling back to reveal his teeth as the scent touched his nose. The wolfsbane was literal poison on his fingers and he was hoping to not have to use it, but he would. The flower, to humans, had no detectable scent, but to him, it was revolting. It was even more sickening as the night grew closer. He had always actively stayed away from the plant, but because of his desire to protect his mate he sought it out and plucked it to give to her. Jaime did not enjoy having it close, but to keep his promise to Brienne, he would.

He placed the flowers back on the table and started attaching the irons to the bed. He would need help to secure himself completely later. The heavy metal fell on the bed with a thud and his heart fell with it. The words he told Brienne were the truth, he would give up running for her. He would give up anything to keep her at his side, but her words were also true… he would be miserable chained up during the full moon. He had always loved running and being free. It made all the pain of transitioning from man to beast to man again worthwhile. The feeling of the wind through his fur and the grass under his paws was like being one with everything. 

But being with Brienne was even more than that. She was the center of his world. His body, heart and mind were so connected to her that he could not imagine being parted from her. The very idea of her leaving was like shards of glass being shoved into his soul, causing him to bleed and die. Seeing that open trunk with her things neatly packed away had been a punch to the gut. It had knocked the air from his lungs and made it hard to breathe. 

Considering that, giving up this moon cycle was a small thing really. And mayhaps with more time he could convince her to come running with him. He closed his eyes and pictured her at his side, her hand running through his fur as they lounged in the moonlight. He would rest his head on her lap as she leaned against a tree and they listened to the sounds of nature. It was simple but he found himself longing for the images in his head to be real. The ideal dream would be her at his side as a fierce wolf, but that outcome would content him just as well. 

He just wanted to be with her. He needed to be with her. His wolf and him would not be complete without her. Brienne, Tarth’s first daughter, the lady warrior, meant everything to him. And he knew she felt the same. He had seen it in those incredible eyes. He had felt it in her touch. He had tasted it on her lips. They were two halves of one soul.

The door to his chambers opened and the very woman he was thinking of stood in there. Her brilliant sapphire eyes looked from him to the chains and back again. Her shoulders slumped a little and she shook her head. “This is not right, Jaime.”

He walked over to her and took her hands in his. “What is not right?”

“You shackling yourself to your bedpost,” she pulled her right hand from his and placed it on his cheek. “You are not meant to be chained up like a dog. You are meant to run with your pack. That is what makes you happy. What kind of person am I to force you to give that up?”

“You are not forcing me,” he urged her to enter his bedchambers completely and kicked the door shut behind her. “This was my decision. You did not ask me to do it, I am offering to do it so you will feel safe.” He sat with her on the bed and pulled her close.

Brienne ducked her head into the curve of his shoulder, pressing her nose to his throat. Her warm, moist breath puffed against his skin sending his nerve-endings into overstimulation. “I always feel safe with you, Jaime.” He tightened his hold on her at her words. “I always know that you will protect me, just as you did that night with Septa Roelle.” She lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes. “I wish I felt differently about the bite.”

“As do I, my wench,” she blushed at his tone and his odd endearment. “But I see your reasons and I have promised you that I will not do anything to cause you harm. Those shackles,” he nodded at them, “will at least ensure I can keep my oath to you.” He paused and then added, “And if that does not keep the wolf at bay, I want you to keep those flowers on you.”

“What flowers,” she asked confused. He reached around her and handed her the purple bundle of bell-shaped flowers. She held them loosely in her hand and studied them carefully. Jaime naturally backed away from the offending plant. His stomach began rolling and his throat started to close. The ability to breathe easily in the presence of those tiny flowers was getting more difficult as the wolf rose to meet the moon. The scent became stronger to him and his reaction to it more visible. Brienne noticed a change and frowned at the plant in her hand before putting it on the table again. “What is that, Jaime?”

“Wolfsbane,” he hissed through his teeth. “It has been used for generations to protect humans from werewolves. One of the first things responsible noble wolves do is to ensure all their charges have wolfsbane around their homes. That is why most deaths caused by a wolf are in the woods or in darkened places that do not have any of those flowers around.”

“Why would you bring such a flower into your home, Jaime? Why would you give it to me?” She was aghast. “Do you believe I could ever use it against you?”

“I brought it here to make it clear that any promise I make to you, I intend to keep.” He held her face in his large hands and kissed her hard, pouring all his feelings into that act. She swayed toward him when they parted, her mouth still searching for his. “I demand that you keep that flower close. That you use it, if I come to you and do anything to frighten you.”

She looked deeply into his eyes and as his words began to take shape in her mind, she shuddered. “No.”

“Brienne…”

“No,” she said firmly, getting up from the bed. Her back was straight and tense, her gaze harsh with anger at his suggestion. “You are asking too much. I will not cause you pain. I would rather you take my throat than do that.”

He rose from the bed quickly. “I will not take you by force in any way.” He gripped her wrists and pulled her close to him. His blood was running hotter. She continued to show her disapproval by holding herself back from him. Her shoulders tightened and her lips thinned out. “If you decide that you wish to be bitten, you will have to ask for it. I will not be responsible for injuring you.”

“But you believe me capable of doing it to you,” she raged. Her anger at the idea of using the flowers and his frustration at how she was acting filled the room with tension. Energy coursed through him. The way it did when he was priming for a fight. A small part of his mind was more focused on the way he felt more than on their words, and it reveled in the fire. A thought flashed in his mind that he would never be bored with her. The passion between them would never be dull and he loved it. “What would happen to you if those flowers were eaten by your wolf?”

He looked away from her and took a step back. He did not want to say the words. He did not want to admit what could happen if he ingested the poison. The stories of how violent a death it was for a wolf were told to young cubs as a way to scare them away from the flowers. Unfortunately the tales were not spun falsely. “It would stop me.”

“It would kill you,” she hissed, “that’s what you mean, is it not?”

“Not necessarily,” he half lied. He could survive… but it would be unlikely. Wolfsbane was deadly, but some have managed to live… even if they were never the same. More stories told to him by older wolves as a young, brash pup came to his mind. The images of a wolf barely alive, weakened and lost. His body a breath away from falling apart while tremors shook him until he could not move. The mind gone, the husk that remained worthless. 

“Liar,” Brienne waited until he was looking at her. “You would _die_. You would put your death in my hand and on my heart?!” 

“I would rather die than harm you,” he was getting even more frustrated. Couldn’t she see that he was doing as she wanted? By placing shackles on his arms and giving her the cursed plant, he was making sure she would not be forced into a life she did not want! “I am doing this for you!”

“No,” she said clearly. “You would rather die than bite me because I have asked you not to, but Jaime I would rather you bite me than die! You once begged me to think before I do something foolish that would leave you without me, well I am now begging you for the same. _Think!_”

“I am!” He roared. Her fighting with him was driving him _mad_! He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. “I am thinking of you and how you do not wish to be a werewolf. I am thinking of how I can protect you. I am thinking of my vow to love you as you are and not try to change you in ways you do not want. I am thinking about how much I love you!”

She went still, her heart racing and her sweet scent whiffing over him. “Jaime…” Her voice softened at his confession. That was not how he had wanted to tell her, but like everything about them, passion overrode his good sense.

He closed his eyes. “Brienne…”

“I,” she paused and then pressed herself against him. He opened his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss that sent his blood rushing south. He growled deep in his throat, moving his hands over her body, caressing her, molding her to him. She pulled away just far enough to say, “I love you too.” His breath released. He had not realized he was holding one in until she said those words. He knew she felt the same, but hearing them... “You are mine and I will not lose you.”

He growled again and whispered back, “You are mine and I will not hurt you.”

Her eyes glistened at him and she looked sickened by the very notion of using the poison. He was distressed as well. Not by the idea of dying, he had never feared death, but by the possibility he could lose control and hurt her. She blinked quickly and straightened her spine. She sounded fierce as she said, “Please, do not ask me to use those flowers against you. I cannot. I will not. I have spent my life holding a part of myself back, believing no one would ever see me as anything but a monster wearing a dress.” He opened his mouth, his heart hurting at how much she had suffered. The fact that his own words about her -those he foolishly said before he had realized what she meant to him- may have caused her distress was excruciating. “I do not wish for you to pity me; I am stating a fact. My looks have always been what they are, and they will continue to be so. But when I am with you, I do not have to hide or hold back. You see me and now that I have had that, I will not be able to let it go. I will not harm you. Not only because I could not do it, but because I am selfish.” She touched his face softly, ran her hands through his hair. “I need you, Jaime. I need you.”

“I only want to protect you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I know,” she kissed him gently, softly nipping at his bottom lip, “but there must be another way.”

His hand moved over her back, down her sides and back up again. His need to protect her and his desire _for_ her was weighing on him. His wolf nudged him, urged him to lay her down. The moon’s pull was starting, and it was only just past midday… the sun still bright in the sky. Jaime inhaled sharply. Her words were pulling him to her. _I need you._ Gods he needed her too. He needed to know that she will be safe and untouched when the wolf retreated under his human skin. He needed to slide within her body and claim her. The fire was rising in his soul. 

“I need you too,” his voice rumbled through them both. She shivered, and the sweet scent of her arousal intensified. They were heading down a dangerous path. The first moon of the cycle was the strongest for a mated wolf. He felt it. The tugging at his senses, darkening and sharpening. He could see her more clearly than before; each freckle was more pronounced, and he wanted to brush the tip of his tongue over each one. He wanted to bury his cock in her cunt and his teeth in her shoulder. He wanted to be knotted inside her and fill her with his seed. Jaime wanted to hear her scream his name as the man and wolf he was howled in triumph. He wanted to lock the door and keep her under him all night and long into the next morn. She moaned, swaying in his arms. He gritted his teeth, “You need to leave me.”

Her eyes were glossy, “I feel it, Jaime. I want to give in. What is happening?”

“The moon is affecting us.” He knew he should step back, but she was there and he wanted her so much. His body ached with that need. More than anytime before. It was like drowning in a sea and he knew the closer it got to sundown the more he would be pulled under. “You need to leave,” he repeated.

Her lips found a spot on his neck, sucking at it and pulling the flesh into her mouth. “I am not a wolf, but I feel the pull, Jaime. It calls to me. It heats my blood and makes me want.” He almost whimpered under her because he knew it. The proof of her desire was filling the room, making him weak. Now he knew how she felt when he used the mating scent on her. He would do anything for her at that moment. “Jaime,” she grabbed his hand and kissed his wrist where the veins were. His pulse jumped. “I do not want to leave.”

He forced his eyes to the window. Oranges and pinks flooded the sky. Dusk was upon them; time had slipped rapidly away. If she did not leave, he would not let her go. He tore himself from her, his body hard. Tense muscles moving slowly toward the bed, his hand shook as he grasped the heavy metal like a feather in his hand. The cuff opened under his trembling fingers. 

“I do not want you to leave,” he admitted with his back to her. “I want you under me. I want your body to move with mine as I take your innocence.” He heard her feet against the floor. Heel to toe, her gait as soft as it always was, but it sounded loud to him. He inhaled. _Tell her to come closer_ the wolf urged him to say. _Stop denying us what is ours to have. She would give us her neck, she would give us her body, she has already given us her heart._ “You would give me your body if I asked,” his voice was slurred as if he was drunk. “You would fall upon my bed.” 

“Yes,” she confirmed, and he shuddered. Her body was close to his. Her front brushed his back with each inhale. “We have danced close to the edge before, but I am ready…” He turned around and faced her. His lips curled. “Jaime…”

He shook his head, “You need to leave. This is not you. You do not want this.” He fumbled with the cuff on his wrist. Cursing at his own lack of control. “Brienne,” he warned. “You and I are slaves to the desire between us. I am calling out to you, my mate. And you are answering. But this is not real. In the morn…”

“In the morn,” she took his wrist in her hands and started to pull the cuff away. “I will want you just the same. I have wanted you all along. My mate, do you not feel my need?” _Yes,_ he moaned to himself. Or mayhaps out loud because she answered him in a voice that made it even harder for him to think clearly. “Then you know. My body has been yours. I have been yours.” Her body swayed more, as if dancing to a song only she could hear. 

He slapped the metal around his wrist. “My mating scent.” The words whispered under his breath. How dim could he be? Of course she was reacting to the mating scent! The moon was making his mind move too slowly. But now it finally made sense. She was lost in lust, in need and he was adding to it. “You must leave. Lock your chamber door. Use the flowers.” He sat on the bed reaching for the other shackle and she sat next to him. Her small breasts pressed into his arm, her nipples hard as tiny pebbles through the material of her tunic. “Siren…”

“Should we not give in,” she asked. “I have wanted to hold back. I have fought against this for so long. Now I do not want to fight. I want you. I know it is wrong. I know it will make me a less than ideal mate…”

“What madness are you speaking of?”

“My…” she blushed and looked down, moving and shifting on her seat. “I am a maid. That is what men want in a wife, in a mate. But with you, I am wanton and find it hard to control myself.”

“Being wanton for me is not a crime. It brings me joy to see you lose yourself in my embrace. It drives me mad to have your body pressed to mine. I love it. I wish for you never to stop. You know I have never viewed you as anything other than magnificent.” She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “I may have not understood what you were to me, but even when you walked in that first day, I knew you were unique. You seemed to fill up the room and I could not help but notice you.”

“I am big,” she said silently. “And ugly. Of course, you noticed me. Everyone always does. Brienne the Beauty mocked for being too manly and too dim by half.”

“Fools,” he hissed. The chains clanked together as he gathered her close to him. “You will never be mocked again. Any who dares will regret their words with the help of a quick slice to the gut.”

“You can not stop the world from seeing what you have decided to overlook.”

“I see you, wench. I see all of you. I have felt you against me. I have fought with you, with swords and with words. There is nothing I am choosing not to see. The men and women that glance once and never again are the ones that refuse to see you.”

Her eyes shone like gems in the sea and she leaned forward. Their lips met a soft kiss that quickly turned needy. He growled as her hands moved toward the bottom of his tunic, her fingertips brushing over his skin. “Mayhaps I am wrong.”

“About,” he panted, kissing along her neck, sucking and trying hard not to bite.

“The bite,” she moaned as his lips settled over her pulse point. “I know that we are one. Mayhaps I should just give in.”

“Brienne,” he cautioned. “You know that you do not feel that way. It is the mating scent and the moon and our desire. You are not thinking with a clear mind.”

“I know what I feel.” She stood and settled on his lap. The thin measure of control he had was slipping from his grasp as her warm center settled over his hard and throbbing cock. “I know your scent is everywhere. I know that it is in my head, but mayhaps I am thinking more clearly than ever.” She rocked her hips. “I am burning. The baths gave me a taste of you, Jaime. I need more. Do you deny us this moment? Do you deny us this sweet release?”

_Do it,_ the prowling wolf pawed at him. _She is ours. She wants to be one of us. Take her. Make her. Set her free. My mate. She will run with us._

The primal part of himself was stronger than before. His humanity was nearly gone. Jaime was disappearing as the sun sank lower. Her words, her scent, his wolf. He moved his hand to touch her breast, making the chain rattle. He pulled himself back. 

“If you stay, I will eat you up,” he let the words settle before continuing. “I will claim you and I might not be able to control myself. You are a maid and deserve more. If by the morn, you still want me, I will have you. I will take you. I will make you _mine_ completely. But not like this. I am more beast than man. I am more wolf than Jaime. When I have you under me, I want to be me and for you to want me just as much.”

Brienne blinked at him. “Will you come to me in the morn?”

“Yes,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster while fighting with his own darker passions. “I will find you. I will not deny your wishes.”

She lifted herself up on unsteady legs. He placed his hands on her hips to help her and she moaned at his touch. “I do not want to leave you Jaime, but you are right. I am not myself. When we come together as one, it should be as Jaime and Brienne, not as two people that are slaves to the moon.” He nodded, feeling like the biggest fool in the room. His wolf growled and snarled. She touched his face and his hands tightened on her hips. “Come to me. Once the dark gives way to the light, find me.”

“Try and keep me from you, my wench,” he angled his head to capture her lips in a promise and a tease. His tongue swept her mouth, sliding in and out. His teeth nipped at her lips. His hands slid around her hips to grip her ass, firmly grabbing the globes of her cheeks in his palms. She moaned and gasped, pulled at his hair and kissed him back with the same fervor. They parted slowly, neither wanting to separate. He touched his forehead to hers, “Take the flowers for tonight. Dispose of them in the morn. I will knock at your chamber door as soon as the beast in me lays dormant again.”

“I am not scared of your wolf, Jaime.” She looked at the cuff on his wrist and the one waiting to be put on. He lifted the second and handed it to her. She tested the weight, frowning at the metal. He held up his wrist to her. Brienne shook her head. “I do not want to shackle you, Jaime. I want you to be free.”

“I will be free when I know I will not hurt you,” he nodded to her. “Make it tight. Make it so I cannot escape before the sun comes up.”

“How will you get from the room if you are chained?”

“A servant is to come and let me out…”

“I want to,” she blushed. “Let me come to you.”

“Brienne,” he rested his head on her flat muscular stomach. Her scent was making him mad with desire. The sun was nearly gone now…

“I will release you, Jaime,” she ran her fingers through his hair. “I am your mate. It should be me.”

Jaime looked up at her and nodded, “I will see you with the sun.”

She cuffed his wrist with reluctance. “You will, my mate.”

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Tyrion felt the moon pull at his insides. The evening was starting to settle into dusk and before long the blinding moon would be hanging proudly in the sky. The wolf under his skin was docile but Tyrion could feel the fear and apprehension. He was afraid too. He worried about what would happen when he finally took that first drink of the vial. He paced his chambers back and forth while the animal under his skin did the same, his mind a mess of bad thoughts. He had never believed it would come to this. He had always, ridiculously, thought that something good would happen and that, for once, the Gods would smile upon his twisted and broken body.

When Brienne came, he had honestly believed the answer he had been looking for had come with her. She had offered him a way to be free with his love and keep his wolf wild. She had been, for a moment in time, his answer. But like all good things that entered his life, the hope had faded into a puff of smoke. Her mating with his brother ended all plans of using her to cover his true feelings… but mayhaps that was for the best. A marriage between them would have already been loveless, but the idea of her being alone while he was with his mate suddenly left him cold inside. 

It was right that she should be with someone who could love her the way she deserved to be loved. And with the potion, he would have the same opportunity. He pulled the small bag close to him and opened the cap on the vial. The smell was pungent. It reeked of death, rotting leaves and shit. His nose wrinkled in disgust. There was a knock at the door, pulling his attention from the vile liquid and Tysha entered. Her head was wrapped in a black scarf and her body was clothed in a plain gray dress. She had a bag on her shoulder, and he could hear her heart racing wildly in her chest.

He smiled sadly at her and the wolf rose under his skin to greet her. The love that both man and beast felt for the innocent woman was almost too much to be contained in his small body. He walked toward her, and she blinked back tears.

“Ya sure, my love,” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, my light,” he looked down at the brown glass in his hand. “It is the only way to be free.” He brought his gaze back to her eyes. “To be together. This will break me from them. They will not know… he will not know.”

“Lord Tywin…”

“Will never agree to our union,” Tyrion finished. “We will always live in fear of being without each other, but if I do not exist…”

She sobbed brokenly, her slim, delicate hands twisting together. “Ya shan’t have to do this. I am not…”

“You are worth more,” he grabbed one of her hands and kissed her knuckles then looked at the vial once more. The wolf moved restlessly, whimpering and scratching at the ground in his mind. The moment had come and with a heavy breath, both man and beast knew what was about to happen. Tyrion saw his hand start shaking, the potion inside the vial sloshing against the sides. He turned his head to gain strength before pressing it to his lips and swallowing it in one gulp. 

The first thing he noticed was cold- icy liquid numbing his throat on the way down. The feeling was uncomfortable but not horrible. It was causing his body to tingle all over. He shook and looked up at Tysha with a shaky smile. The potion sent his entire body into a state of frozen suspension. Like when you ate something cold too quickly and there was a dull, throbbing pain. He stood still, continuing to gaze upon his love with that uneasy expression. All the anticipation was for nothing it seemed. The wolf was still there in his head, tilting his canine head. It must not have worked. Tyrion wanted to laugh bitterly. Of course, it would not work. This wretched and feared potion… his lips twisted. This was not so bad… it did not take long for him to regret that thought. 

The ice melted into wildfire in his stomach, searing his insides with its green flames. It caused him to fall to his knees and clutch at his belly. His stubby fingers clawed at his tunic. He wanted to rip his skin from his bones. His stomach lurched. His bones felt like they were being crushed by a smith’s hammer. He yelled, howled, and screamed in agony. Tears were forced from his eyes, covering his face. He bent down wailing into the ground. He reached into his soul and found the companion that had been at his side since birth. The muzzle of his friend was red with blood, seeping slowly from the edges. His gold and black fur was dulling. He growled and whimpered, using his paw to wipe at the red around his mouth. Tyrion took a labored step toward the wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed to the beast. “I’m sorry.”

The wolf under his skin curled his lip, showing bloody teeth for a moment before he seemed to wilt. The strongest part of him was weak and gasping. His tongue rolled to one side of his mouth, the pink color replaced by grayish black. Tyrion could feel the pain intensify. It was like knives into the heart, ripping and tearing, gouging and flaying his body and his soul. He dropped further, his hands slamming into the stone. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged violently, spitting out blood the color of coal. Chunks of something Tyrion was afraid to look at followed, spewing from his mouth over and over. His tongue was covered in poison, burning holes and he screwed his eyes shut. Faintly he heard screams in the background but he could not decipher their meaning. He was not even sure what they meant. The truth was he wanted to die in that moment, the suffering worse than anything he had ever felt before and he had endured a lot.

He could see his companion looking at him. Mismatched eyes looking into another pair of mismatched eyes. The wolf, sad and hurting, resigned to this fate. The man, feeling the same. He wanted to say he was sorry again. But the words felt hollow and empty. He wanted to take it back, but he could not. The damage had been done. The poison was taking hold. All the thoughts of what he should have done instead rushed through him like a running steed. He could have run away. He could have stood up to his father. He could have found some other potion, a different solution. He raged in his mind, anger dulling the pain just a little. This was stupid. _He_ was stupid. Tyrion Lannister, the cleverest of the family, was a fucking fool! The animal dipped his head. Slowly circling the ground for a place to lay down. His beast did not show the aggression that he should have. He was defeated. The man and beast loved Tysha too much. The man and beast would give their lives for her…

The beast was…

His wolf lifted his head up to the sky and let out a howl, broken and weak. The last of his calls. He limped as quickly as he could to the animal. He reached his hand out, he needed to touch him. He needed to hold onto this part of his soul. He needed it to survive! Then the animal flopped to the grass and disappeared from his mind, floating away like ash in the wind before Tyrion could get to his body. The space where he was laying was nothing but dented grass… empty. Tyrion pounded the stone, still gagging. He expected pain, he did not expect this level of agony.

He raised his head and looked up at Tysha. Her body was curled into the wall, her knees against her chest, sobbing for him. For the wolf that was no more. He wanted to reach out to her. He wanted to assure her he would be fine, but he could not. All he could do was shut his mouth and hold in another agonizing scream. Tyrion was powerless, a dwarf with nothing special about him and he could not help ease either of them. 

The poison worked through his system, cleansing him of the animal he had loved and grown with. He had always had two beings within his body and now that was no more. It felt wrong. _He_ felt wrong. Horrible thoughts entered his mind again. Without his wolf, would he be able to take care of Tysha? Their young, if the Gods granted them babes… He was not Jaime. He did not have skills with a sword. His mind was where his power laid. Being a werewolf had given him another advantage. His senses were sharp: his eyes saw more, his nose smelt danger and lies, his ears could detect someone coming long before they came into sight… Could Tyrion do the same without him?

It seemed to take forever for the shaking of his body to stop enough to breathe a little easier. His lungs filled with air, the organs against his ribcage hurt more than he thought it would. Mayhaps he would not make it to their destination. Mayhaps, he had finally killed the life his mother had died for. He probably should not have lived this long to be frank. Tyrion shook his head slowly to stop that thought from taking hold. He would survive. All this agony could not end in his death so soon. He would not allow that. He had to think of Tysha and her wellbeing. That would force him to live. He would live for her. When he could lift himself from the floor, he staggered. His feet were unable to support his body and he leaned against the edge of the mattress, slumping and sweating. He looked around the chamber and noticed nothing was clear anymore. His senses were dull. Under his skin, only his heart was beating.

Alone.

For the first time in his life, he was alone… and it was frightening. Tyrion walked on wobbly legs over to Tysha. She shook her head, her face red and miserable. She reached for him and he reached for her. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other and she buried her wet face into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her words hoarse and cracking. He realized quickly that the distant screams had come from her and suddenly he was thankful that his own had been so loud. He was sure the roars and yells that escaped his body would have covered hers easily. “Ya shall n’ver know how much.”

“Shh,” he kissed her temple and the bridge of her nose. “I will never regret it. You are worth more.”

He hoped she did not hear the lie. He prayed to the Gods that one day his words would be true, because at this point, he did regret it. She meant everything to him, but he did regret tearing apart his soul. He missed the friend in his head. He missed the pull of the moon. He missed the wind in his fur.

Yet, he would do it again to be with her as he longed to be. He would suffer this pain. He needed her. She was like air to him. No matter what happened…

He loved her more…

Tyrion pulled away from her. The effects of the poison still made him a little, a lot, woozy, but they had to hurry if they were to make it to the boat before the others knew what had happened. For once in his life, he was relieved that his transitions had always been painful and on many occasions his screams would echo off the castle’s walls. No one would know a difference between the wails ripped from his throat on this night versus the ones that had been pulled from him before.

Tysha eased herself to stand and took his hand in hers. Her strength seeped into his bones and helped steady him. Their bags were on each of their shoulders. They were the only things they would take with them. A new life awaited them. He tried to smile at her, but he felt his lips wobble a little. The pain from his actions stayed strong in his body. He ground his teeth together to keep her from knowing all he felt. He hoped the agony would ebb away soon.

Together they left his room and quickly escaped out of a secret passageway that led to the beach just beyond the woods. Howls of wolves could be heard as his family began to emerge and run. Tyrion inhaled through his nose… nothing. He could no longer smell the rich earth or the damp leaves. The sounds of life were muted to the point of near silence. A new pain settled in his soul. 

He looped his arms around Tysha, keeping her close as they stepped on the sandy shore. The boat and the man that would sail them to a new harbor came into view quickly. The two threw their possessions into the skiff then climbed in after. Tyrion raised his eyes toward the moon and said his goodbyes. Jaime would find his letter eventually and all would be known. He did not know if he would ever see Casterly Rock again.

Until then, he settled for whispering his words into the winds. This was the end. He would no longer be part of a pack. From this moment, he was a lone wolf. He lowered his head and caught sight of a magnificent golden wolf standing on a cliff staring down at him. His heart jumped into his throat and did not settle until the shoreline disappeared from view.

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[ ](https://imgur.com/qhRBrF7)

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Tywin looked toward the castle as the screams sounded through the night. He sniffed the air, pawed at the ground and moved toward his home. He knew Tyrion had been planning something, but he did not think it would be this. The foolish cub! He ran hard from the woods. He would drag him back into the castle if he had to!

He stopped running suddenly. He panted and looked around him. The scent in the air was different. He was too late… It was like losing a limb, his body ached with the pain. He felt the break. The connection severed. His son… he could not feel him anymore. From the moment they were conceived, Tywin could always feel his children. He knew them. They were his pack, his cubs. He had always known when one needed him or was about to do something. 

As Alpha, it was his responsibility to guide the pack. He had always been harsh with his cubs. He had to be, especially with Jaime and Cersei. His hard guidance was intentional. He needed his pack to survive, he commanded that they survive. The Lannister name depended on it. Jaime had always skirted the edges, dipping his toe into trouble. Most of the time because Cersei pulled him across that line. Cersei loved to snarl and snap. She was all teeth and had to be held tightly or she would cause them all to be hunted. Her wolf had always been wilder than the rest, a dangerous creature with a taste for cruelty. Tywin had known there was a carelessness in her that others did not have. He had tried to rein her in as much as he could in her youth but it was in vain. Her beauty blinded many to the deeds she was capable of… even her own twin. He knew his children… but…

Tyrion was the one he knew the least.

He would admit, if only to himself, that it was because of how he came into the world. His youngest had come to life by draining the last of Joanna’s from her. Tywin had never been able to forgive his son for taking his mate from him. He had only kept the child because his lovely wife had loved him from the moment Tyrion was conceived. She would write in her journal about how he would be the best of them, how she felt his greatness in her soul. 

_“Tywin, love,” she would say as she rubbed her protruding belly, “This child will be special. He will be perfect and smart. Just wait and see, my love,” her green eyes sparkling as she spoke, “just wait. He will surprise and amaze the world. Just as our sweet Jaime has. Just as our baby girl has.”_

Tywin rushed to the cliff and looked down at the beach below. Tyrion was running, stumbling and holding tight to the hand of his mate. On the water, a small ship bobbed and rocked, waiting for the couple. His eyes watched the movements of his son. The youngest, the smallest, the one that Joanna proclaimed would be the greatest, helped his love into the ship and looked back.

Even at a distance, Tywin could see the doubt and the fear. He scratched at the ground again. He could jump from the edge and rip his son from his love, drag him back to the castle and show him his place. Tywin could make it clear that even with his wolf gone, _he_ was still his Alpha… 

Tyrion lifted his body into the boat and tilted his head to the sky. “I’m sorry. It was the only way,” his son’s voice lifted over the waves to him. “I hope you will understand one day. You know what it is like to love and to be mated. You have always hated me… will you even care?” The dwarf dropped his head and he looked directly at him on the cliff’s edge. “Goodbye, father,” his son turned away from him and settled next to Tysha. 

Tywin felt the weight of Tyrion’s words on him. He sniffed the air. Regret hung on the breeze, he was not completely sure whose regret it was. His son’s or his, it could be either... He still had time to get him back but he knew it would be for naught. His son was gone. His pack was broken. He watched the skiff get smaller and smaller. A knot of pain gathered in his gut and he raised his head toward the moon, letting out a broken howl.

_Goodbye, son…_

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[](https://imgur.com/xVeAAZx)

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Word had spread quickly through the ranks of the hunters, bodies were showing up in ditches and deep in the woods. Every moon another find, each more gruesome than the last. The fear in the towns would start to take hold if it continued. One body was worrisome, but drunken foolery could be used to explain it… three bodies were harder to rationalize away. People would notice, some already had if the talk in the pubs were any indication. Oberyn walked silently toward the unmistakable smell of death. He kept his weapon next to him, his spear sharpened and ready should the killer emerge from the dense woods. His brethren were behind him, watchful and prepared to battle. The night was giving way to dawn, the sun just starting to rise and flood the ground with orange light.

He bent down and touched the grass with his fingers. It was wet and not with dew droplets. Blood, thick and crimson, coated his fingers. The liquid had been there for a while, already drying in patches. He stood, taking out a handkerchief and wiping the substance off. He motioned with his hand to keep moving. The body was close.

His dark eyes took in all his surrounding, carefully piecing what happened together. Branches were broken, tree limbs were hanging loosely from trees, the grass had drag marks so deep it turned up the dirt. Oberyn knew these signs. He had been hunting them since he was a wee lad of ten. The life of a hunter began early with stories of great wars and uneasy truces. 

Neither wolf nor hunter existed without rules. Hunters could not kill without cause and wolves could not cause undue harm to humans without bringing the Seven hells upon their pack. Oberyn enjoyed hunting. He was good at it. His name brought fear as well as respect. He protected his people- all people- from creatures thought to be myths made up by Septas to scare babes from entering the woods.

If only that were true… Werewolves were dangerous. Teeth and claws, power and speed. Humans were mere toys to be chewed on. The only protection they had came from a place far away, from people most in Westeros looked down upon because Dorne was freer and less constricted by norms. His mouth twisted at his thoughts. Oberyn had learned the ways of Westeros, had seen the attitude toward foreigners and knew that they did not see those from the south as anything more than heathens. It would be easy to ignore the people that looked down upon them, but he had been taught that duty meant more than cheers. He saw honor in protecting those that needed it, even if they never showed him gratitude for his deeds. The balance must be kept, no matter the cost. 

His thoughts were interrupted as the stench of a decaying corpse got more pungent. His stomach turned and he took some deep breaths in and out of his mouth to settle it. His steps slowed and his eyes swept the ground more intently. They will soon come upon the body. Four more steps were all it took to find what he was searching for. 

The man was bloated with flies swarming the wounds that had ripped him apart. His brown eyes were open and glossy, his mouth parted in a silent scream. His skin was sickly pale and bluish. The wolf had not wasted time in doing what the creature wanted. Oberyn squatted down and looked over the corpse. The neck was ripped nearly to the point the head was no longer attached. The stomach was bloody and chewed on, some of the man’s organs pulled out and spit on the ground next to him. There was a deep bite on his thigh, muscle and bone clearly seen through the thick blood. This amount of mutilation was not done by a hungry animal. This was done by a vicious creature for the sole purpose of killing. It was done for pleasure. He knew the difference in the kill. He had seen what men could do to each other and what a beast would do to survive.

He stood up and looked around him looking for anything that would show where the animal was. The wolf was long gone by now… he stopped and walked over to a small pile of leaves. He reached down and picked up his find, holding it up to examine it. Fur… 

Only one pack had fur this color. His brown eyes narrowed. The hunt would start that night.

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[](https://imgur.com/P4AManN)

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Brienne stared at the sun as it rose from her spot next to the window. All the feelings from the night before flooded her and her insides quivered. She swallowed and looked down at her hands. She had made promises to Jaime. She had promised her body to him. She was sure that she was ready and she knew she had been willing. The clear decision while in his arms was now shaded in fear. Would he still want her as much as he did the night before if the pull of the moon were not still there? Was this undeniable attraction all they were?

She heard his words in her head over and over. He loved her. He _loved_ her. Hearing such a declaration from someone as amazing as him was almost too unreal to believe. She should be used to the feeling, but she was not. Each time he showed her his passion for her, she was struck again by how this could not be true. In the darkest parts of her mind, where her Septa still roamed, she could not trust this to be.She had heard more than once that she would never capture a man’s attention, that it was good her hips were large and her body strong because her husband would only use her as breeding mare. Love was not in the future for her. She was meant to be hidden and not be shown. Little babes pulling at her skirts, a man taking her in the dark… that was to be her lot in life.

Jaime was wrecking that image. He was making her believe that she was worth more. That she was beautiful and desirable. In his arms, she has the Maiden’s beauty and not just because she had never had a cock between her legs. 

She rubbed her hands over the material of her dress. It was simple and pale blue. She did not know what one wore to release their mate from shackles… or what one wore when going to possibly fuck them for the first time. Her eyes glazed over and the room became hazy. She would not be a maid after this morn, if they did as they both wanted. It bothered her that if they were to wed, she would not give him her maidenhead on that day; but to her shame, it did not stop her from wanting to do it anyway. The words of her Septa had haunted her all her life. 

The cruelty with which the older woman described what would happen in the bedchamber had made the act seem more punishment than pleasure. The words Jaime used made the act seem like the most pleasurable thing she could ever imagine. With his arms around her, she was not scared… she just _wanted_. Brienne wanted to be with him. She wanted to be the lioness that she was supposed to be and she _wanted_ to be his wolf’s mate as well. Suddenly her objections seemed weak. 

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the flowers on her bedside table. She rushed over and picked them up, folding them in a piece of parchment and tossing them into the fireplace. The flame ate the paper and the flowers quickly. She would not be needing them. She would not put her mate at risk. She was not going to rely on poison to protect her. Brienne was going to trust in the man that would rather die than hurt her.

Jaime had been her knight since that moment in the garden. His wolf had protected her when she would have surely met her end without him. The man had rescued her from the cliffs. She felt foolish, childish and weak minded. He wanted her to be his completely and she let fear stop her. The thought of going through the pain of the bite, of the change, did not seem so bad if he was at her side. He would always protect her.

Her father’s face appeared in her mind and she sighed. He would be disappointed in her if he knew what she was contemplating. She still did not like the idea of keeping anything from him, but she would be married to a wolf… her babes would be wolves… this was true. Mayhaps one day she would be comfortable with the secret. Mayhaps one day it would not need to be a secret, people and wolves living together without fear of the other… She shook her head. It was pointless to think about it. She would have time. She would discuss it with Jaime… but now she wanted to be with her mate.

The walk to his chambers was terrifying in a completely new way. Her heart was thundering in her chest, as she entered the hall leading to his room. She took a deep breath, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking too much. She wondered if he could already feel her. Could he sense how close she was? Could he hear the way her heart was reacting? Could he smell her desire mixed in with her nerves?

She reached his door and rested her head on the frame. This was her choice. He would not force her. Stop letting the fear cloud your mind, she commanded herself. Taking one last deep breath she pushed the door open. Jaime turned his head toward her. His green eyes sharp, his nostrils flaring, his mouth parted in a smirk. His tunic was pulled from his body, the opening showing the golden skin of his upper chest and collarbone. She sucked in a breath, her hands itching to touch that skin.

“You came,” he said, moving his body as much as the chains would allow. She shut the door behind her. The sound loud in the quiet of the room. “My wench…”

“Did you think I would not come to rescue you from your bonds?” She was surprised at the way her voice changed with her words. They sounded almost girly and flirty.

He growled low in the back of his throat. She grabbed the key from the table and knelt on the bed next to him. He looked up at her as she inserted the key into the lock. The tension rose between them. Her breathing was harsh. She could not seem to compose her mind.

“Brienne,” he whispered. She angled her head down to meet his eyes. “We do not have to do anything. You can leave. I will not make you stay.”

She twisted the key and the cuff gave way, “I have spent my night thinking of being with you. I am scared by my lack of knowledge and that I will not please you.” She reached over him and quickly removed the second shackle. He sat up quickly and soon she was wrapped in his arms under him. The speed with which he moved caught her off guard and she gasped. He kissed her open mouth. His tongue pushing past her lips and sweeping over her teeth. Her gasp gave way to a moan and her hands found the soft curls of his hair. They kissed hard. It was a fight and a dance, a give and take. His large hands caressed her over her dress, cupping her breast through the fabric with one hand and gripping her hip with the other. She arched into him. Her body reacting to his touch, to his kiss, to _him_. “Jaime,” she moaned through the kiss.

He pulled away, his gem-colored eyes dark and filled with passion. “Never doubt that you will please me, Brienne.” He leaned his head down and licked up her neck. “You could deny me your body everyday and still please me with your kisses. The sweetness of your lips make me weak.”

“I could deny you,” she said with a smirk. “Does that mean I could leave you hard and wanting and you would never be upset with me? Come now, Ser Jaime, knights should not lie to their betrothed.”

He nipped at her jaw lightly and her insides fluttered. “I would never be upset with you, but I may end up killing many men in frustration.” His perfect lips curl in a blameless smile. “Do think of the innocents, Lady Brienne..”

She laughed, pulling at his tunic and removing it from his body. “I would not want any innocent harmed because of my actions, Ser.”

“That’s honorable, my lady warrior,” he murmured against her lips. She smiled as he kissed her slowly. The sweet slide of his lips over hers sent a shiver down her spine and she let her left hand follow the natural curve of his back. He lifted up, pulling at the fabric of her dress. “I have thought about you under me for so long. I have dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist as I plunge into you.” Her face heated up and her nipples tightened. “I want to dive between your legs and lick at your sweetness. I long to taste you.” She whimpered and lifted her body up slightly, begging him to touch her, take her, reforge her. “Would you like that, my mate? Tell me what you want.” His voice deepened and turned into a growl. She locked her eyes with his and licked her lips. “Do you want me, my wench? Do you want to be mine completely?”

“Yes,” she panted. “I want you. I have wanted you for so long it feels like you are in my blood.”

The hand on her hip pulled at her dress, gripping and bunching the fabric in his palm. “Last night,” he told her as he moved off of her to help her off the bed. He settled back on the mattress and guided her to straddle him. “I thought of maiming myself to get to you. The wolf that emerged wanted to break bones to escape from the confines of this room.” He ran his hands up her legs under her dress, caressing the line of her muscles, over the hills of her strong calves, up the smooth skin of her thighs, to her rounded ass. She jerked, unintentionally pressing her core against his hard cock. Jaime gripped her ass harder, rubbing his clothed erection into her. She moaned and dug her nails into his shoulders. They set up a rhythm that sent her blood rushing and her body quivering. “When I saw you standing there,” he panted into her ear, nibbing a little at the lobe, “I began to believe in the Seven.” He thrust into her hard, the clothes between them making her frustrated. “The Maiden, the Warrior… they smiled upon my wretched soul and gave you to me.” One of his hands slipped under the waistband of her smallclothes and touched her. She cried out as his finger brushed over her wet curls. “You are magnificent my wench. I can smell you. You are making my mouth water.”

A wave of his scent washed over her as she ground down on his fingers. She knew she was acting with wanton lust, that she should be embarrassed by the sounds and movements, but she wasn’t. She couldn’t. The need was too strong. She shut her eyes tightly as a ball of pleasure tightened low in her belly.

“Please,” she whined, desperate. “Please.”

He removed his fingers from her and she slumped over him, frustration making her weak. “I want to taste you. I have felt you reach your peak on my fingers before… now I want to feel you dance on my tongue.” His voice was a growl. She opened her eyes and saw his flash. The animal and man merging and demanding. She would not tell them no. She wanted the same. She wanted to give everything to him. She stood on shaky legs and with Jaime’s help removed her dress. The fabric lay in a pile at her feet. Brienne felt the years of being told how her body was something to be ashamed of prickle at her spine. A ghost ready to scare her away… “Fuck,” he moaned and pulled her close. His mouth latching onto a nipple, sucking on her tit. “Fuck,” he said again.

_Yes_ she agreed in her mind. Her body was on fire and she needed him to help her quench the flame. “Jaime,” she moaned, arching her back. “I need more.” She did not care that she sounded weak to her own ears. She could be vulnerable with him and he did not mock her for it. She could be soft in his arms, and strong as well. He did not find fault in her for being the way she was. He embraced her rough and smooth edges. Her heart filled with so much emotion that she almost cried. She never believed anyone would love her this way, especially someone like Jaime Lannister. “Jaime,” she said again, softer this time.

He lifted his head from her chest and looked at her. She touched his face. _Mine_ his eyes seemed to say. The green gems looked at her with adoration and care. _Yes_, she thought to herself, sure in this feeling. _Always…_  
.  
Jaime moved up on the bed, pulling on her hands so that she would naturally follow. She crawled on her knees until she could lay down next to him. He was on his side while she settled on her back and his right hand moved down the curve of her body. He dipped his head, capturing her lips in another slow kiss. With each pull of his mouth on hers, he draped himself over her. It felt amazing being covered by him. His body heat made her sweat, his scent made her arch into him and her desire for more made her claw at his skin lightly with her blunt nails. 

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of her smallclothes and she inhaled sharply. He stopped before pulling them down. “Brienne,” he kissed her neck, peppering her skin with tiny bites that had her clenching her thighs together to relieve some of the ache. “What are you thinking? I have felt how much you want me, but I can also feel how scared you are…”

She turned her head away for him, gnawing at her lip. “I am nervous…” Brienne sighed. Finding some courage, she removed her smallclothes, leaving her bare before him, “but I am tired of letting my fears stop me. Jaime,” she held his gaze and leaned up to kiss him. Her eyes remained open as she poured all her desire for him into the movement of her lips. He growled and groaned. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her nude body to his partially clothed one. She broke the kiss slowly, “Make me yours…”

“I will take you, my wench,” he said with heat in his voice. “I will make you pant my name and beg for more. We have always been parts of one soul… now we will be one body.” He dipped his head, placing wet kisses to her jaw. “You have always been mine. You will always be _mine_.” He nustled at her neck, pressing his nose into the skin. Jaime moved down her body, sucking at the flesh, nipping at her collarbone, stopping to lavish her meager breasts with attention. Brienne rolled into him. He grinned as he pulled one of her nipples gently with his teeth. “Yes,” he hummed into her. “Show me what you want, my siren...my wench.”

He continued to worship her body, murmuring how much he loved her strength and how much he had thought about being inside of her. He licked at the curve of her hip, mouthing at the bone. She trembled under him. She took in some air and his intoxicating scent, moaning the closer he got to where she ached the most. Her body felt like it was on fire. He nudged her quivering thighs open, his face mere inches away from her dripping center. Need was blazing through her blood as he settled between her legs. Jaime looked up at her, catching her gaze as he placed his mouth on her.

She jumped, her body jerking as his tongue pushed through her folds. He hummed happily, licking and lapping up her essence. Brienne whined in the back of her throat. This was too much. She no longer just felt like she was on fire, she also felt like she was struck by lightning. Her nerve-endings were raw and sensitive, her entire being focused on the way his tongue twisted and rolled inside of her. Brienne curled one of her hands into the fabric of his bedding and brought the other to her mouth. She was conscious of how loud she was being and some part of her wanted to stifle those sounds. 

A maid should not be so wanton. _A Maid should not have a man between their legs without a vow between them_, a voice whispered. It was like a fly buzzing in her ear. Septa Roelle was always there, even in death, tearing her down. She bit hard at the heel of her palm as Jaime sucked hard at her clit. She pushed the voice away and focused on the beautiful man doing wicked things to her. Brienne did not want to regret this. She knew what she was doing. She knew that no matter what happened, Jaime will always want her. It soothed to know that he had loved her before and he would love her after.

Jaime lifted his head and looked down at her. “Do not cover your mouth,” he commanded, his voice half-human and half-otherworldly. She blinked at him owlishly, the words coming to her slowly but the timbre of his tone setting off flares inside her. She slowly removed her hand from her mouth. Her eyes narrowed and her body flamed hotter. There was something about him in that moment. He seemed to be caught between man and beast and both of them were focused on her. His green eyes were dark and endless. She could feel the possession in his touch. His mating scent was building around her, coating her mind in a haze of lust, and she was falling fast. Her mind was fogging, her body pulsing with desire. The throbbing bordered on pain. It was so extreme and she wasn’t sure she could handle it much longer. She needed him to release her from this agony. He sniffed the air, his tongue licking at his lips seductively. He settled back down between her legs, “I want to hear you. Sing for me, my siren wench.”

He pushed his tongue deeply inside her and she let out a scream of pleasure. His thumb worked at her bundle of nerves, circling the nub and flicking at it. His left hand cupped her breast, pinching her nipple. She danced on his tongue, moving her hips in time with his thrusting. Her moans got louder. He wanted to hear her and she could no longer stop herself. He added a finger next to his tongue, pushing in and pulling out. Her grip on her sheet tightened, twisting the material hard while the other hand found purchase in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to her. 

She was lost in the feeling of having him pleasure her. She was drowning in his scent. She was open to him and he took all she gave. Jaime added a second finger and she felt the tension between her thighs build. Her hips jerked harder, pushing him more deeply into her. He chuckled and nipped at the lips of her core. Brienne tried to stop the wave from crashing on her. It was too powerful and she would surely die from being crushed under it. 

“Come for me, my siren wench,” he told her in that tone that sent another ripple of pleasure through her. “Sing and tell the world you are mine. My mate. My love. Scream for me.”

And she did. His name fell from her lips in ecstasy. All the tension in her released in a flood and he continued to drive her over the edge with his tongue and fingers. Her muscles constricted and uncoiled as her peak rushed over her again and again. She removed her other hand from the bed and curled it in his hair as well. Just when she thought she may pass out from the experience he lifted himself up and crawled over her. Her eyes opened slowly to meet his. There was a darkness in his eyes that held her captivated. The ever-present possession was there in the green depths, as well as love and desire, and under it all was the wolf. The beast watched her. She could feel his presence. He wanted to devour her, eat her up and make them one. 

Brienne knew that should scare her. It should cause her to pause in fear. The reality of being not just with Jaime but with his animalistic side so close to the surface, should make her quiver and run. Logic should prevail. He was dangerous. He could kill her. He was wild…

He was _hers_.

She had always recognized that she wanted to be his in all ways, but for the first time she also recognized her own animalistic side. She wanted to claim him as well. She wanted to devour him and never let him go. The call to be one ran deeper than she realized. Lord Tywin had said that her family had once contained Kings and Queens- that they had deluded the bloodline with human lovers, but right then, Brienne felt her ancestry. She felt the wolf inside her rise up and shake off the dust from being dormant too long.

Jaime smiled. He recognized the change. With a certainty she had never known, Brienne knew she would let him bite her eventually. They would make that decision together. _Together._ She grinned. The part of her that was holding back receded and she was left with only relief. He lowered his hands toward his breeches, pulling at the strings while she reached up and kissed him hard. Her fingers traced the muscles of his back, his sides, down lower and lower. 

Together they divested him of his remaining clothes, throwing them toward the end of the bed with abandon. Brienne looked at his bare and golden body and her heart skipped. She could not believe this beautiful man wanted her as she wanted him. He said that the Maiden and the Warrior had blessed his wretched soul by giving her to him, but she would say that the Smith and the Warrior blessed her as well. The Smith made him strong, steel under skin… and the Warrior made him a protector, fearless in the face of danger. 

“You are beautiful,” she whispered, unable to stop the words.

“As are you,” he responded. “You are everything I have ever wanted and know I do not deserve.”

She touched his face, “Jaime...” She kissed him softly. “Do not say such things. It is not true. You deserve everything and more.”

He parted her legs, resting his body between them. His cock nudged at the opening of her core and she tensed a little. He rubbed up and down her thighs. “Relax, my siren wench,” Jaime whispered against her lips. “We will go slow. I know this will not feel comfortable for you, but I will try not to hurt you.”

She pressed a finger to stop his words, “I trust you, my mate.”

His face broke into a smile and he kissed her hard. She could have said a million different things, but those were the words he needed to hear. He took his cock in his hand and eased the head into her wet center. She held her breath as he pushed into her. She waited for the pain to become unbearable. She waited for the agony that she had been warned about… but all she felt was pressure. She couldn’t deny that it was uncomfortable, but so was getting kicked into the dirt while wearing chainmail. 

Jaime’s cock filled her, making her feel whole. The piece of her that she had not known she was missing was found. She was complete. He completed her. He held himself still inside of her and looked down into her eyes. His golden hair curled around his face and sweat glistened on his skin, making him look like a God. She got lost for a moment in his eyes, the gem-colored orbs sparkling with love and lust. For her. The big, ugly island girl that no one had ever looked at other than to mock was loved and made love to by Jaime Lannister. 

“One moment of pain, my siren,” he said, pushing in and pulling out of her gently. She moaned as the movements started building another fire inside of her. “One moment of pain, then I will make sure to never hurt you again.” 

“I am ready,” she said the words breathlessly. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. 

“Look at me,” he said as he eased back out. She opened her eyes slowly and met his green ones. “Yes…”

He curled his strong hands around her thighs, looping them over his hips. She gasped as the change in position helped him slide more deeply inside of her. He growled as he pulled back once more and snapped his hips. She let out a sharp cry as he finally broke through her maidenhead, joining them fully. Jaime did not move as she tried to adjust to the sensations welling up in her. He caressed her face, placing his mouth next to her ear and whispered words of apology over and over again. 

The pain was still not as bad as what she had imagined. It hurt, but she had been hurt worse while sparring. She shifted a little to get comfortable with his girth. She had a feeling of fullness and being stretched. As she moved to the left, his cock touched something that sent stars exploding behind her eyes on the thrust back into her. She gasped, rocking her hips against him. Her nails dug into his lower back, holding him inside her. Brienne rolled her pelvis and he hit that spot once more with a shallow thrust. 

“Oh, oh, Gods,” she panted. “Jaime…”

“Yes,” he answered in that voice that seemed otherworldly. “Fuck! So tight. Mine. You are mine. _Fuck!_” The last word was a roar.

The discomfort gave way to a rising tide of feelings and she was floating on them all. Why had they not done this sooner? Why had she stopped him before? They were made for each other. Lock and key, broken when held apart but together made whole. She found herself rising up to meet his thrusts more urgently, sucking the sweat off his skin, biting lightly at his shoulder. 

He picked up speed, still being careful not to hurt her. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with their cries of pleasure. He gripped the back of her head and pulled lightly to kiss her. It was dirty and wet. Tongues and teeth, giving and taking, begging for more, pleading to never stop… never…

Their eyes met and the look on his face pushed her over the edge. The peak she had just experienced with his tongue and fingers paled in comparison. She was drifting, she was flying, she was pulled apart and she was stitched back together. Brienne was made anew. She was made his. His lover, his mate, his… only his. Brienne, the lonely girl from Tarth, was no more. 

Jamie hovered over her. His eyes were locked on her, watching her, glorying in her pleasure. She blushed at his attention. Stupidly, she blushed. After all they had done, yet this made her shy. He started to move within her again and she moaned. Her body was still too sensitive from her climax. As he began to lose himself, she realized how much he was holding back. 

The man who had worried he would lose control proved himself to be stronger once again. He had made sure she was taken care of and loved right before thinking of himself. Brienne felt tears fill her eyes and she blinked them away. She wrapped her legs around his hips and used her muscles to keep him close. He showed his teeth to her, not in anger but in a smile. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck as he continued to move. His tongue lashed back and forth against the veins of her neck. Her heart jumped. 

Jaime pulled back and rested his forehead on her chest. “Brienne,” he panted, lost but trying to find his way back. “Would you forgive me…?”

Her heart broke. She did this to him. She made him scared to give her all of him because she did not want to be bitten. She lifted his face and kissed him. “There would be nothing to forgive,” Brienne vowed. “I am yours, Jaime. Whether it be now or later, do not hold back from me.”

His face relaxed and his thrusting began to pick up speed again. The control from before was slipping and sliding out of his grasp. The animal was taking over. He pressed his face back into the side of her neck and she held herself still. If he bit her now, she would not hate him. It was not her wish, not at this moment, but she had already decided she would give him her neck one day. If it was the time, so be it. She angled her head slightly and he inhaled the scent of her skin. Another climax built and washed over her. His fragrance curled around her like a blanket and she whimpered his name. His lips closed over the curve where her shoulder and throat met, his teeth sliding back and forth as his hips snapped wildly into hers.

Brienne prepared for the bite… she prepared for the knot that he spoke of before… She relaxed her body and trusted him. Jaime would be gentle with her. More gentle than any other man. She knew that. She arched her back and angled her head further to the left. He growled into her skin, opened his jaw and clamped down on the pillow next to her hair. She felt the stubble of his day-old beard scratch at her neck as he ripped the pillow to shreds.

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his large chest. He did not bite her. He stopped himself for her… He lifted his head. His eyes were glazed over and she could see him on the brink. His thrusts got stronger and more erratic, his cock swelled and grew larger, but he pulled out before the knot could be inserted fully. He rolled away from her and took his cock in his hand, jerking and pulling. Brienne watched in fascination as he brought himself to completion. His release covered his hand and the flat part of his belly.

Almost as if in a trance, she dipped her fingers into the substance and lifted them to her lips. “Brienne,” his voice rumbled sexily. She curled her tongue around her digits, sucking a little. The taste was musky and bitter, but not disgusting. Jaime’s eyes darkened to blackness as she licked her hands clean. Before she could taste him again, he grabbed his shirt from the floor and cleaned himself. She felt ashamed, that must have been off-putting to him. He looked back at her and wrapped her up in his arms, “You cannot do such things as that, my siren,” he said heatedly. “I am a man of six and twenty and can not take the sight of you licking your fingers. My heart will give out.”

She laughed, the heaviness lifting. “Six and twenty is not old. You are very young and very fit my Lord.”

“Says my mate that is much younger than me and my old bones,” he groaned in exeraggeration. She rolled her eyes at him, curling into his side. He kissed her temple and sighed into her hair. “How are you my wench? Did I hurt you? Do you need anything?”

She mentally checked to see if anything hurt and could only settle on a bit of discomfort in her core from their vigorous coupling. She knew both would have some bruises from hands gripping too hard, but that was nothing she was not already used to while training. 

Brienne shook her head, “A little soreness.”She drew patterns on his skin. Her mind was suddenly full of questions but she did not know how to ask them.

He reached down to cover them both with a fur from the end of the bed. She was not cold, he was more than warm enough, but she still found herself snuggling under the blanket. Jaime wrapped her up in his powerful arms and she sighed against his chest. 

“What are you thinking about, my siren wench?”

“Is that my name to you now?” She nipped at his pectoral muscle lightly. He chuckled and rubbed at the spot. “My name is Brienne, My Lord.”

“Yes,” he grinned at her. “But you are both my siren, singing my name sweetly as you come apart in my arms, and my wench, a seductress that makes me weak. It is only right I call you by those names.”

“What should I call you, My Lord?” she arched her right eyebrow in challenge.

His expression turned serious, “I would hope you for you to call me your Lord Husband.”

“Jaime,” she gasped. She had known he would ask for her hand in marriage, they were destined, but she never believed… The man she loved had surprised her once again. 

“We both know we will be wed some day,” he played with the ends of her hair. She was charmed by how shy he seemed. From the moment they met he had always been larger than life, confident in everything he did. Now there was a vulnerability that tugged at her heart. “I will send a raven to your father when you are ready to say yes, I hope that day is now. I want to wed you, I want to tell all the Seven Kingdoms that you are mine from now until our dying days…”

“Yes,” Brienne tried to blink back the tears that flooded her eyes. “Yes.” He grinned. The stretch of his smile nearly split his face in two. He kissed her hard and quickly several times, making her laugh. He leapt from the bed and over to the desk in the corner. He began moving pieces of parchment around, holding one up and then placing it back. She watched him, amused by his actions. “What are you doing?”

He looked over his bare shoulder at her, “Composing a letter to your father. I need to send the raven to him quickly so he will never know how I have ravaged you before our wedding night. Would he be able to get here within the next sennight? I do not want to wait long. I will not be able to keep you from my bed, I will hardly be able to leave you be.”

“Come back to bed,” she harkened while blushing all over. She slid a little further under the fur blanket. The blushing frustrated her. He had seen all of her, _touched_ all of her, and still she flushed calling him back to her. The truth was she wasn’t shy at that moment. She was hungry. She had tasted the forbidden fruit and found the flavor to be most enjoyable. “There will be time later to beg my father for my hand. I believe he may already know that this missive is coming. Word about us must have reached his ears by now.”

“Aye,”Jaime nodded, walking back toward her. She took a moment to admire his form as he moved- licking her lips unconsciously. The man was a vision of sexiness and she wanted to touch him again. Once he reached her, he knelt beside the bed. “I know he is aware of another Lannister being quite smitten by you.” She blushed at his words. “My father helped enlighten him that a proposal would be coming soon. I should have sent it to him a sennight ago and wed you before the full moon.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her knuckles. “I had never wished to dishonor you.”

She laced her fingers with his and pulled him until he rose from the floor and settled back on the bed with her. Brienne curled around him again. “I am the one who came to you, Jaime. You did not dishonor me. I know that what we did was improper, and I can be seen differently now that I am not a maid, but we are mated, my love.” She tilted her head toward his. “You are the man I chose. I do not regret laying with you.”

“The Maiden and the Warrior…” he whispered, in reverence. “I do not know what I did to make them think I deserve your love.”

“I have told you,” she brushed her thumb over his bottom lip, “you deserve everything.” She paused, taking a deep breath. That moment was about not giving into fear. She took another breath and held it in her chest before slowly releasing it. She needed to know… “Jaime, can I ask you why you did not bite me or knot me while we coupled…?”

He stilled beside her then started running his hand up and down her spine slowly. “I did not bite you because you asked me not to. I told you I will not do anything that you do not want.”

“I offered you my neck,” she said softly, keeping her eyes locked on his chest and playing with the dusting of hair. 

“I know and it took all I had to _not_ accept that gift without thought,” he licked his lip in contemplation. “I never want you to regret becoming a wolf and in that moment, you were not thinking clearly.”

“I was,” Brienne sat up swiftly and looked down at him. She had been ready for the bite, she had tilted her head to give herself to him. “I knew what I was doing. I was giving in.”

He sat up as well and waved his hand between them. “I do not want you to _give in_. I want you to want it with every breath you take and every beat of your heart. Once I bite you, there is no going back. I know I pushed the idea upon you before, but you made me realize it is not just about me. I want you to be more than willing. Can you say that now?” She looked away and played with some strands of fur on the blanket. She could not give him the answer he wanted and that made her angry at herself. He sighed and took her hand in his, kissing the back of her knuckles once more. “We have time, my siren wench. We have the rest of our lives.”

All the fight drained from her. “You do not hate me for being unsure,” she whispered.

“Never,” he leaned forward and kissed her hard. “As for why I did not knot you… I did not wish to get you with child before we said our vows. I have already taken your maidenhead, I did not want any doubt that my betrothal to you is based on anything but my devotion to you. Also, I do not want your father to hate me even more than he might already for dishonoring you further.”

“The vows said before the Septon will merely be a show for others,” she touched his face. This felt right to her. Being with him, wrapped up in his arms… “We have been united for many moons now.”

“But we have only become betrothed this morn and your father has not granted me your hand yet.” He reminded her.

She grimaced. In her heart she knew his words were true, but a small part of her was thrilled at the idea of being round with his babe. She fought against the part of her that has put honor and duty before all and straightened her shoulders. “You know he will grant you my hand. It is a silly formality.” The words sounded strange from her lips, but she believed them.

He let out a bark of laughter, “Are you the same woman that balked at a simple kiss from me while still being betrothed to my brother? Who would not think of breaking said betrothal because of duty to her father and her island?” She glared at him for knowing her so well and blushed fiery red all over. “Brienne,” he swallowed his laughter and pulled her back to the bed with him. She did not put up much resistance. She longed to be back in his embrace. “I promise you,” he kissed the crown of her head, “once we are wed, I will spend our honeymoon knotted so deeply inside of you we will not part for a sennight at the very least. Does that not sound wonderful, my siren wench? Being together so intimately that no one could separate us? The pleasure we shared this day will pale in comparison to that. We will be one in every way.”

She wanted to stay mad at him, to keep her rational mind, but the thought of being so connected to him sent her blood pumping and her core aching. Her mind began to dull a little as his mating scent intensified around them. “You promise?” she whimpered as his large hands caressed her slowly. 

“I am a knight and you are my Lady,” Jaime kissed her slowly and thoroughly. “I would never break my vow to you.”

He returned his lips to hers, pulling her body under his mighty one. Brienne smiled against his mouth as he continued to fondle her body and kiss her slowly. She could not wait for them to be one. She could not wait to be with him so completely. Fear of what it might be like to have him locked inside her was fading into the anticipation of their wedding night.

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Cersei exited the carriage with the help of the footman. She smiled blankly at him, barely registering his face in her mind. She stared up at the castle she had once called home. She pursed her lips together, her eyes flickering over the windows. She saw the one that belonged to him and a small smile curled her perfect lips. Jaime… oh, how she had missed him.

Her body was aching for him. She needed him to soothe the pain of losing yet another babe. The cursed Gods had once again denied her the pleasure of being a mother. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the tuft of golden hair. He would have been beautiful. Not as beautiful as if it had been born of Jaime’s seed, but cousin Lancel had done his job. Hopefully she will never have to turn to that child again. Yes, he looked remarkably like Jaime had at the tender age of seven and ten, but looks was where the similarities ended.

Jaime was strong and full of vigor. Sex with him had always made her come the hardest. Lancel was young and easily swayed. Both worshipped her cunt, but Jaime knew how to make her wet- Lancel, while eager, was still learning how to. Cersei did not want to waste her time teaching when she could just return to the man that knew her best. 

She climbed the stairs and entered Casterly Rock with a flourish. The butlers, maids and pages scrambled to bow and curtsey to her as she stood looking at them with an arched brow. Simpletons. All of them. The oldest butler stood and waited for instructions.

She put a smile on her lips, the same one she had given the footman, “Take my things to my room. I request wine and a platter of cheese to be waiting there when I enter.” She picked up the end of her skirt and started climbing the stairs toward Jaime’s chambers. “A tub is to be brought to my chambers as well.”

Cersei did not turn back around to see if they were following her orders because she knew they were. She was the Lady of the Rock and Queen… she would have them sent to the cells if they dared challenge her. She rolled her eyes as she continued to move in the direction of her twin’s chamber. As she neared his door, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

There was a scent… strong and overpowering. It smelled like sandalwood, mahogany, citrus mixed with sea salt and… she inhaled more deeply. It was revolting. She turned her head away from his room, barely containing her need to choke. She knew the scent of her twin. He was woodsy and fresh, with a hint of rose. It was the fragrance of her soap on his skin. Her mark, her brand… she could not smell it now. The light citrus and sea salt scent had washed it away. What in the Seven hells? She pushed against his chamber door without knocking, ready to demand he explain the disgusting change in smell when she caught a glimpse of something even more foul.

Jaime was nude on the bed, a bed she had never been able to fuck him on because they had feared their father’s wrath, with _Brienne of Tarth_. The monster of a girl was laying on her side facing Cersei. Her mannish hands were tucked under her head. Her straw hair fanned out on a torn pillow. She had love bruises on her thick neck and across her broad chest. Her fish lips were red and even more swollen. Jaime’s arm was across her thick waist and his hand was cupping her teat. The smell of sex… that’s what had greeted her. The scent of the beast and her twin’s combined fragrances. He had clearly worn the bitch out. Cersei’s anger boiled and her hands clenched at her sides. She took a step toward the bed when Jaime lifted up suddenly.

Their eyes met. A perfect matching set locked together. She started to take another step toward the bed but stopped shock at the low growl emitted from her brother. She heard the warning in the sound. It was deadly and filled with promise. Cersei shivered. Jaime rose up further, his eyes flashing and his teeth snapping. A maddening thought came quickly to her mind, in that moment Jaime would kill her. She had never seen that look on his face directed at her and it caused her to instinctively take a step back. 

Jaime was watching her. His gaze tracking her, ready to pounce at any danger directed at the young whore. He was protective of his bitch, that was clear. His loose woman and her easy cunt pushed him to snap at _her_. She took a long look at Brienne and her blood began to boil again. Jaime growled louder and he covered the monster laying on the bed next to him further. His hand on the bitch’s chest flexed. She moaned in response and he leaned close to her, burying his nose into her hair and crooning softly in her ear to settle her down. During all this time, he never stopped looking at her menacingly, not for a second. The… tenderness... with which he treated the silly cow cut her deep. She couldn’t take it anymore. With a toss of her hair, she left the room, closing the door behind her. Her nails cut into the heel of her palm, blood dripping from her closed knuckles. 

She straightened her spine and headed for her chambers. She had a lot to think about…

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[ ](https://imgur.com/1ijhrmo)


	10. The Calm Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Brienne held herself still, hanging between awake and still asleep. The haze of her dreams was still in her head. Wonderful dreams- filled with soft kisses and intense touches from the man she loved. She didn’t want to slip from that spectacular realm of fantasy where she was curled against him after being loved so thoroughly. She wanted to stay cocooned in the sweet world of her own creation. She was safe there. She was adored there. Jaime was wrapped around her, protecting her, as if she was precious there. In her dream, he held her with care and never wanted to let her go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a quick note. I just want to say thank you to all that have read this story or any of the stories I have written. Your support is what has carried me through and kept me going during the dark times. I can't express how much you all mean to me. I hope you continue to enjoy this story- but I want to warn everyone that the next couple chapters after this one get more dark. I never want to make anyone uncomfortable, but I know what I have planned for the next several chapters. This chapter is, however, safe. Thank you again for all the love. 🧡❤ It means everything to me.
> 
> Thank you to Ro and MerryMaya for the poster and the banners respectively and for being awesome friends.
> 
> Thank you to River_Melody_Pond for loving this Jaime and putting up with this Brienne. 😅

[ ](https://imgur.com/osScAxt)

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**Chapter 10: The Calm Before**

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[ ](https://imgur.com/P4AManN)

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Brienne held herself still, hanging between awake and still asleep. The haze of her dreams was still in her head. Wonderful dreams- filled with soft kisses and intense touches from the man she loved. She didn’t want to slip from that spectacular realm of fantasy where she was curled against him after being loved so thoroughly. She wanted to stay cocooned in the sweet world of her own creation. She was safe there. She was adored there. Jaime was wrapped around her, protecting her, as if she was precious there. In her dream, he held her with care and never wanted to let her go.

It was a rare and wonderful feeling. A sparkling gem of a moment that she rued having to relinquish. Of course she would have to soon though. Life could not be lived within dreams. Reality always crept in, the softness of sleep faded into the harshness of consciousness. Stretching out her legs, she paused- another body was pressed to hers. She finally let her mind open and think and _remember_. The morning came into focus quickly and Brienne wanted to roll over to make sure that he was still there.

She turned her head toward the heat at her back and had to hold in a sigh. _Jaime._ His golden hair curled around his face, falling onto his cheeks. His lips were parted and pink. One arm was under his head, while the other rested on her hip over the furs. She captured a curl in her fingers and gently pushed it from his face. _Gods he is beautiful._ Her heart pounded roughly in her chest as she finished that thought with, _and he is mine._ It seemed unreal and mayhaps that was why she had been so reluctant to awaken from her slumber. 

Stupidly, she still could not quite believe he could love her. Even after moons of being together, even with the knowledge that she was his mate, it did not make sense. One such as her did not attract one such as him. It was impossible… and yet, here he was, laying next to her after a morning full of love. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips. They could not stay in bed all day- there was much to do- and if she did not leave the safety of his arms, she would convince herself to stay. 

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, tightening his hold on her. “Stay where you are.”

“It is well past noon, Jaime,” she tried to slide from under him. “There will be talk if I do not leave your chambers now.”

He lifted his head, a playful smirk pulling at his lips. “Do you really believe others do not know of our activities?” She went still, her heart began to race in panic. “We are werewolves. Our senses are heightened during normal days, but during the moon’s phase…” He moved to cover her prone form. “Do not fret, my siren, no one will talk ill about you for laying with me. Many have done, as we have, in our world, animals that we are. Mating is natural and expected.”

She shook her head, “But it is wrong. A Lady should be pure- or at least appear as such.” She lifted her hands to her face, covering it as humiliation set her skin ablaze. “I can not believe I did not think of this. What will others think of me now? An ugly woman with little to offer and now one that is not a maid…”

“You will not speak ill of yourself in my presence either. I find you to be beautiful in many ways.” He held himself above her. “As for our coupling, do you regret it?”

She quickly removed her hands from her face and blinked up at him, “No!” Her arms came around him, pulling him down on her, sighing at the way his body felt. “I just feel embarrassed that your family is aware of what we have done. Does it not make you uncomfortable? Them knowing that you have been with me like this?”

“Absolutely not,” he growled possessively. “I would gladly stand naked in the courtyard and tell all that I have fucked my mate and that she loves me.” She shivered as his hand caressed her side, her blood flaming again. “The only thing that gives me pause is how your father will receive the news of our actions. As I stated this morn, I wish to marry you quickly so that what we do behind chamber doors will not lead to him trying to gut me.”

“He will not gut you,” she laughed. “He might lock me in my chambers though and stand outside of it so you can not enter and have your way with me.”

“Well,” he kissed down her chest. “That will not do, my siren wench.” He sucked her nipple into his mouth and she made a strangled noise of desire. “I can not be parted from you for such a time.” He kissed back up her body. “We will just have to wed the day he arrives so that he will not get the chance to separate us.”

She smiled at him, placing her hand on his cheek and leaned up to kiss him softly, “Nothing and no one can separate us, my mate. You are mine as I am yours.”

“Until the Stranger comes,” he agreed, kissing her again. “Which if I have any say will not be for many years. You will be gray with age and I will be barely able to stand. That is when our time will end.”

“You speak of the future with such assurance,” she urged him to lie back and placed her head on his chest. “What do you see for us?”

“I see you,” he whispered into her hair. “I see us together. I see you round with my cubs and them growing up in a loving home filled with joy. I see us getting older together.” He moved his head to meet her eyes. “I also see us fighting, my siren. I see you trying, and failing might I add, to best me with a blade.” She huffed, rolling her eyes as she pinched his side. Jaime laughed at her response. “I see us teaching our children to respect the steel at their hips and to protect all they love with it. I see a bright future, my lovely wench. What do you see?”

“That,” she murmured into his skin. “I picture you carrying our babes in your arms, all with your smile and beauty, through the woods, teaching them how to be werewolves and good boys and girls.”

“I do not see the same,” he shook his head. “I wish to have girls that resemble you.”

She leaned up, hurt flaring in her chest at the idea of a child looking as monstrous as her. “Why would you wish such a fate on one of our children?”

“You still do not understand,” he sighed. “You are brilliant my love. Your eyes alone could stop my heart. But it is your body I have craved for many moons. The strength of your legs and arms, your small- perfect- teats. The firmness of your arse. I rue the day some man looks upon our daughter with thoughts as lecherous as mine are for you. My wench you see the ugliness others have told you but I see the beauty that shines from you. And that should be shared in our babes.” 

“You are the only man to look at me in such a way,” she turned away from him. “I do not wish my looks upon another.”

“Just because I am the first to notice your allure does not make it less real.” He tipped her face back to his and kissed her forehead. “Men are fools. Rarely do we know what is right for us. Let me assure you though, I noticed you from that first day. My wolf noticed you. I would be proud to present a lass that looked like you to the court and I would cut any that spoke ill of her. It is what a father should do.”

“My father was and is proud of me,” she felt her body tense and she moved away from him. “He did all he could. He loved me and protected me and made me feel special to him.”

“I never said he did not,” Jaime soothed, “but he also left you to be harmed by another. He let that Septa break your confidence. That is a crime he can not be pardoned from.”

“He did not know,” she hissed. “I did not say anything. He was alone dealing with being a Lord and having a daughter, burdened by ugliness, under his foot. He did what he could and Septa Roelle took advantage.”

“I don’t wish to upset you,” he reached for her but she evaded his touch. “You cannot say you are not aware that he should have stopped the pain. He should have ripped her from your life for hurting you. He should have hung her from her neck for doing what she had done.”

She pulled the fur around her and stood. “I do not have to say anything of the sort.” Her stomach knotted at the idea of speaking such words against her father- her only family. “He did speak to her. He did punish her when he overheard some of her teachings, but…”

“She continued,” blood rushed from her head at his words. She felt dizzy and nauseous. He stood from the bed, naked and imposing. His eyes filled with passion. “She continued to cause you pain and he did nothing.”

The stabbing hurt that she had buried, the loneliness that she had felt, bubbled up to the surface and made breathing difficult. Her arm tightened around her middle. “My father is a good man.”

In her state of shock, she didn’t realize he had gotten so close, until his arms encircled her. “Even good men do things that are dishonorable.” Brienne swallowed her tears, fighting the waves. “Not protecting you was breaking his oath as a father.”

Still not prepared to give in, she lashed out. “You speak as if your father was much better,” she snapped. “Your father hurt his son for not being perfect and betrothed him to me as another cut of humiliation. The monsters together. He did not keep his oath to Tyrion.”

“No,” he stated sadly. “He did not. My brother was harmed by many. I have never said he was an oathkeeper. My father has been cold and cruel, he doesn’t see the lives of any but his kin as important at times. You, however, can not compare the two men. Your father was neglectful, but loving while mine was too proud to open himself up to my brother. Both used the pain of loss to hide away.” He cupped her face and she flinched. “As for why he chose you for my brother, I do not care. If it was a cruel jape, well fuck him. It matters not how you came into my life, only that you are in it.”

With a shuddering breath, Brienne looked at him in the eyes. “I can’t blame him.” She bit her bottom lip hard. “I know that he turned away from the truth, but…” she stepped out of his arms and walked to the window. “He is all I have. He is all I have ever had.”

“That is not true,” he wrapped her up in his embrace again. “You have me. You have Tyrion and Tysha. You have people that love you.” He rested his head on her shoulder and she leaned back. “You can be mad at your father and still love him. As you said, he is a good man. I can not be anything but grateful that he made you feel loved and cherished, but that does not mean I can let that transgression pass without calling attention to it.” He turned her so that she was facing him again. “I will also take some blame as well, as I did not see it either. _Tyrion_ did. He was the one that stepped forward to give you the courage to stand firm against her. I was more upset that you were running away from me.”

“I didn’t want to,” she admitted. “I longed to be with you. I missed you, but Septa Roelle…”

“I know,” Jaime held her. “I just wish I had not been so blind, so selfish, mayhaps that night would have not ended the way it did.”

“She was cruel,” Brienne sank into him. “Her words about you and Tyrion cut deeper than the ones she had thrown at me. I was used to the poison that left her lips. I had heard it for so long that I could almost say the words with her. But when she told me you would never look upon me with love, that I was just a play toy for your amusement…” She tried not to cry. She hadn’t cried since the shock and fear had worn off from that night, but her mind was spinning with her Septa’s venom. “That made my stomach turn to ice.”

“Those words were lies spoken by a jealous shrew that knew you were stronger than her.”

“I wasn’t…” she denied.

“You are and that scared her,” he curled his finger under her chin. “You had the power and for the first time, she was losing. Weak minds are only strong when given power by superior ones.”

“I should have thrown her out long ago,” her voice was clipped and cold. “But how she died was…”

“I do not regret it,” he snarled, his wolf coming to the surface. “I would do it again. She was going to kill you. She had already hurt you with words and with a rock.”

“Words are wind, my mate,” she repeated the phrase that had been her motto for many years.

“Winds can rip trees apart and stir the ocean into a fury that can sink ships.” He responded. “They hurt the soul, my siren.”

“Your words have healed some of those wounds,” she told him.

“Good,” he pressed his lips to her neck and inhaled. “You smell different today.”

Despite what they had just been discussing she couldn’t help but laugh, “It would not do you well to say I stink as you have said in the past.”

She felt his lips curl against her throat. “I have learnt my lesson about such brutal words.”

“That is good,” she buried deeper into his arms. “Because I would not take kindly to hearing them again.”

“You do not stink, my wench,” he moved his head to her throat once more. “But you do have a different scent. It is us. I can smell myself upon your flesh and it is intoxicating. It is more than just sex that I can sense, although that is there, it is the sweetness of you mixed with me that is causing my head to spin. I want to bury myself in you and breathe you in all day and night.” Her stomach flipped and wetness pooled deep inside of her. She wanted that as well. Desperately. She _needed_ it as fervently as she needed air to live. “I want to pull you back into my bed and plunge my cock into your cunt.” His voice changed and deepened. Growling and rumbling through them both. She shivered, instinctively swaying toward him. “My siren. My wench.”

As her mind muddled with lust, she realized he smelled differently as well. The fragrance that she had come to know as his mating scent was even more dark to her with hints of fresh citrus. She briefly wondered if that was what he smelt with her and she the first time she wanted to know. “What did I smell like to you?”

“Sea breeze, citrus and a touch of salt,” he responded without pause. “Your scent is light and perfect. It calms me and can set me ablaze. I seek it out and have been from that first day, which is why the heavy rose angered me so. It covered up the beauty of you.”

“You know I did not enjoy it either,” she rolled her eyes. He hummed as he walked them back to the bed, gently helping her fall on it. “Jaime,” she sighed as he covered her. She felt the hardness of him against her thigh and she shivered. Want swirled through her. Her mind became foggy as his, no- their combined, scent enveloped her. “We should not…”

“What do you object to?” He pulled the fur from her body leaving her bare to his eyes. A flush reddened her skin as his gaze fell upon her. Lust was darkening his moss- colored orbs and she knew her sapphire ones were filled with the same intensity. “The castle knows as we have already discussed and will not care, we are mated and that is deeper than any Septon’s words. I know you want me.” He lifted her leg over his hip, opening her up to his fingers. Two digits slid along the folds. Her body heated at his touch. She arched into him, a curling fire settling in her belly, moving lower. “And you can feel how much I want you,” the touch of his hand against her was light brushes when she wanted more so badly that she whimpered. “What do you object to, my siren? If you want me to stop, I will…”

She shook her head, wrapping her other leg around him, “No,” she moaned. “I need you. I’m aching…” The fingers that had been teasing her, slowly pushed inside her wet core. “Oh Gods…”

The pace he started was agony. She needed him to take her. The ache had built up so quickly and now was threatening to overwhelm her. She clawed at his shoulders, urging him. Her legs locked at the small of his back, but still he tormented her. Her moans turned to pleas, the pleas turned to pants, and the pants finally turned to growls. Jaime watched her with a grin on his face and a wicked glint in his eyes. Once Brienne was nearly to the point of madness, he removed his fingers and entered her with one swift motion. 

She screamed in pleasure as he leaned over her and pushed hard inside of her. It was glorious being so connected with him. His strong body rocked into her with purpose. The morning when he had taken her maidenhead had been more than she could have imagined, this was more than that. Jaime was still being careful with her, she could tell, but he was trusting himself more as well. His hips snapped into hers. His hands played with her breasts. His mouth whispered dirty and tantalizing words into her ear. 

It didn’t take long for Brienne to reach her peak, to fly high, and yell out her ecstasy. She fell limp to the bed and felt him pull out of her. He started to take himself in hand, but she stopped him. Gathering strength from somewhere, she leaned forward and wrapped her palm around his shaft. 

“Show me,” she begged.

Jaime’s eyes flashed and his body seemed to glow. His cock in her grasp grew harder, and seemed hotter. “Tighter,” his voice was raw and rough. She felt a little dizzy, but listened to him. Her fingers closed around him. “Do not go slow or soft.” She licked her lips and nodded. Her hand slid down his shaft and she shivered at the slickness covering it, knowing it had come from her. She pushed her palm along his manhood up and down. Jaime jerked, “Yes,” he groaned. She licked her lips again and leaned a little more toward him. Her tongue flicked over the slit at the top of his erection and his grip on her tightened. She flinched a little, aware there would be bruises on her waist where his hands were. She didn’t care, the taste of him had been so different and she wanted more. She opened her mouth as her hand slid back down and sucked on the tip. “Brienne,” he growled, the wolf and the man calling out to her.

She continued to tentatively take him deep in her mouth, pulling back when her eyes began to water and she gagged a little at the heaviness hitting the back of her throat. He tensed as she gained confidence, relaxing her neck muscles and taking him further each time. Soon, too soon for Brienne, he pulled her off of him and took over. Brienne watched his face as he made a strangled sound low in his chest and his seed spilled over his hand. His eyes rolled back for a moment, his body jerking with his pleasure. Her name fell repeatedly from his lips and she was transfixed by the sight. He collapsed on the bed next to her, weak and sated.

Brienne caressed his face and he grinned at her. She smiled back, curling against him. The thought of leaving his side a distance notion. She was right where she belonged. And if Jaime was right- they all knew anyway. As much as she did not relish all knowing her private matters, she was happy with her mate and nothing could harm her when with him.

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Jaime was agitated returning from sending the raven asking for Brienne’s hand to her father. The whispers and gossip coming from the servants was not what he was expecting. He had prepared himself to snarl and snap a little at comments being made at Brienne and he for what they had been doing all day, but barely a peep was spoken about them at first. Instead the talk was of his brother running off into the night with one of them. His ear honed in on three young women folding sheets and cleaning chambers as he moved through the castle. Their voices were hushed and excited.

_“Tysha ‘nd Lord Tyrion,” one said with a laugh. “That be sumthing.”_

_“They ‘ave always ‘en close, Palina,” another replied. “He h’d ‘en in love wit her from the ‘tart.”_

_“Still,” another voice. “Tis sumthing! She ‘as one of us ‘nd will ‘ave a Lord’s babe. Not a bastard.”_

_“May that be why they run?” The first chimed in with a hint of curiosity. “She could be round wit a babe. Lord Tyrion ‘as ‘omised to the Maiden of Tarth.”_

_Jaime’s lips curled at that and the response. “The Maiden of Tarth,” this was the third woman again. “‘Ardly that now. Lord Jaime rightly t’ok care of that.”_

_“Shh,” the second hissed, “Shela, t’e walls have ‘ars. Lord Tywin and Lord Jaime will not like us speakin’ so plainly bout the Lady. And s’e has ‘en kind to us.”_

_“Oh, Sava,” Shela sighed. “I ne’er ‘aid she wasn’t. I likes her. But ya ‘eard the fucking tis morn. Lord Jaime and Lady Brienne wer quite loud. And we know t’at they be mated. It is all the talk of the castle ‘til tis morn wit Lord Tyrion.”_

Jaime rubbed his hand on his thigh. So he was right in his comment to his siren, all did know about them. He felt pride well up inside of him. Now it was knowledge to all that she was his and his alone. His claim was firm. All he needed now was for Lord Selwyn to return and walk her down the aisle to him. Not that he cared a bit about what the Gods thought, but it meant a lot to Brienne. And, he suspected, her father. He sincerely hoped that Selwyn did not hate him too much for taking his daughter in such a manner. 

His heart sunk as he thought of his brother. All those moons of coming to him with his concerns and rants about Brienne and Tyrion had told him nothing of his plans. He had known something was off. He had asked, but he had not pushed and for that he wanted to rage. Jaime should have forced Tyrion to tell him. Mayhaps if he had, they could have figured out another solution.

He needed to speak with his father. Tywin would know what happened. He stopped short at the sight of Cersei standing at the end of the hall. His back straightened and he walked toward her. Her posture was falsely relaxed as she watched him with flashing eyes.

“Dear brother,” her voice was filled with fury. 

“Sweet sister,” he responded. She angled her head up once he was close enough and he bent to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. The tension in the hall thickened and he knew he had to tell her all that had happened while she was in King’s Landing.

“You did not greet me when I arrived,” she said, her green eyes blazing at him. “I have missed you and needed you.”

“Cersei…” he sighed sadly. “I am sorry for the pain you have been through. The babe…”

“Do not act as if you truly care!” She snarled before taking a deep breath and smoothing down the front of her dress. “You fucked some _child_ while I suffered!” She sneered at him. “A whore- jumping from one Lannister to another.” He showed his teeth at the way she spoke about his mate. His body was tense and his blood was pumping. Cersei moved closer, pressing her breasts against him. He tensed up further. The scent of rose turned his stomach. “Were you really that desperate dear brother? Would any wet cunt around your cock due?”

“Cersei,” he warned low and deadly. “She is my mate and it would be wise of you not to continue to speak ill of her.”

His sister stepped back. Her mouth fell open in shock for a moment before loud laughs escaped. Her mirth was as false as her calm. Her left hand curled into fist and her right held her stomach. Once she stopped, she grabbed his hand and yanked him into a darkened room. He was familiar with this space. Many a night they had snuck in here to quickly fuck or to bring the other to completion. The sight of her had always made him burn, he had always been ready to plunge into her. Hot and hard.

Now he was cold and more than ready to leave her. The only thing that kept him rooted in place was the knowledge she deserved to know the truth. The morning wrapped up with Brienne was still on his skin and he knew she could smell it. How she did not also recognize the mating scent, he did not know. He watched her slide the lock into place and took another deep breath.

Cersei walked toward him angrily, “You called her your _mate_.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Brienne _is_ my mate, Cersei. We are betrothed as of this morn. I…”

“You _fool_,” she snapped. “You fucking fool! You really believe that she is your chosen one? That beast of…” she shook her head. “I would ask if you even know she is a woman but I saw you this morn. Disgusting!”

“I have warned you…”

“Oh, dear brother!” she interrupted. “Stop this madness! You have always craved my cunt. You have lusted after me from the time we first explored. Do you think that some ugly island _monster_ can take my place?”

“She is not a monster! And no,” he growled, his body primed for a fight. “I do not _think_ she is my chosen one,” she smirked, “I _know_ she is.” Her sneer slipped and was replaced by rage. “Ask all in the castle, sweet sister. They will tell you that you haven’t been replaced- because you were never there to begin with. She has been who I have always been looking for. My only folly was not telling you before you saw us together.” She moved closer to him. Her knuckles nearly white from being curled so tightly. “Brienne is to be my wife, she is already my bonded mate. It is done!”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was loud in the small chamber room. His jaw was stinging from her palm slapping across his face. He lifted his hand and rubbed the area that she had struck, his eyes narrowing at her. Cersei was breathing heavily, her emerald eyes dark with anger and lust. He could smell the want in her, her hatred of him on her. His sister had never been shy about enjoying sex while raging at the world. She had used him many times to punish those around her, had even used sex to punish _him_. He was not unused to this side of her… but while before he would have felt the edge of passion cutting into him- now he only felt repulsion. He did not want her as before. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be back with Brienne before the sun set and he was a beast once more.

He rose up, showing his full height to her. His blood spiking in temperature. The wolf under his skin began to growl and show its teeth. He would have taken this type of behavior from her before- he would not be so quick to now. She slammed her fists, full force, into him, knocking him back until he fell to the bed. He went to rise again and she lifted her skirts, straddling his hips.

“You needed sex,” she hissed into his ear, rotating her body, grinding against him. “Fine. She was a willing cunt, but do not act as if you don’t miss my body. I can _smell_ the passion in your blood.” He grabbed her wrists tightly as she pulled at his shirt. 

“Get off of me,” he roared at her, his tone furious as he flung her body from his. The anger coursing through him built more and more as he watched her straighten her clothes. “I have told you to stop, that I am mated to another, but since you are too dim to understand that, let me make it clearer. _I. Am. Not. Yours_. Brienne is the one I love.”

Her laugh this time was like the sharpened edge of a knife. “You always were the stupidest Lannister. You call me dim, but it is you that could not bear to be without me for a moment. Even at birth you held onto my foot for fear of losing me and you expect me to believe some whore has changed your mind so quickly. Oomph.”

She let out a harsh breath as he pushed her against the wall. His hands gripped her upper arms in a vise, tightening until she winced. The expression of pain was fleeting and had he not been watching her, he would have missed it. The part of him that has always protected her, loved her, wanted to let go- but he held on. He needed her to know where this type of ill will against his mate would lead. This was her warning and he needed to make it _clear_.

“You base your words on the act of a babe?” he snarled into her ear. “I am not that man anymore. I was a fool, yes, for _you_. But that is done. I have let you spew venom on this day, but it ends now. The passion, that you have mistaken for lust, is really true rage. I do not want your cunt, Cersei. I do not crave you. I long only for my mate.”

“She will never be worthy of the Lannister name,” she hissed. “She is weak and repugnant. You will grow bored holding back who you really are. She is not one of us. I know that. Still human, still useless.”

“She is worth more than you,” he grinned hatefully. “I do not believe I will be bored by my mate seeing as being with her made me feel like I was with the Maiden herself. She excited me in a way you never could.” The blow landed right where he wanted it to. Her body went still. Her face reddened. Her only real weakness, _her vanity_, had been attacked and she was beyond spiteful. “And yes that was while being a human,” he licked his lips. “Imagine what she will be like as a wolf.”

“Will she let you bite her, brother?” He took a step back, feeling her arrow hit. Cersei smirked. “She doesn't want it, does she? Innocent little bitch- oh, no, not a bitch-” she arched her brow at him. “She would have to be a female wolf to be one of them. She is a nothing. I have heard the rumors. The castle is loud with truths,” she moved toward him, he stood his ground. “She has told you not to bite her. Scared of the possibility of dying. Fearful of lying to her father.” Her tongue peaked out and licked at her teeth. “She should be scared. Have you told her how painful it is to be bit, how she will likely die from such an act? Have you told her that is why we do not mate with humans? Too weak by half to handle what it means to have the power flow through them.”

“She is stronger than you believe, Cersei,” he told her firmly. “She will embrace the bite- has already offered me her neck.”

Her face smoothed out and her body relaxed at his words. A part of him felt cold at the expression. Something about it made him feel uneasy. Her next words did not help settle his flayed nerves any. “Many that appear strong are fragile in the jaws of a predator.” Her moss-colored eyes locked on his. “As you know. You have killed with those teeth Jaime. Blood has dripped from your mouth- human blood.”

He swallowed. His mind returning to that night in the woods with Tysha and then with the Septa. He had lost control both times. The blood flowing into his mouth had been bitter and he remembered each of those times being revolted by the flavor. Cersei knew his sore spots as he did hers. Straightening up again, he shook his head.

“I am finished with this conversation, Cersei,” he started to walk past her toward the door. “You will respect my mate, sister.” He stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder and faced her. “You have talked about how I will hold back with Brienne, but you should be aware, I was holding back here too. Speak ill of Brienne again and I will not show you the same care.”

With that final remark he left her in the chamber and walked back to his own swiftly. He needed to talk to his father, but first he wanted to see Brienne. Jaime felt his body relax the further he got away from his twin and the closer he got to his mate. His shoulders felt like weights were falling from him and by the time he entered his chamber he was practically light. A sigh nearly slipped from his lips seeing her in his bed.

He leaned against the door, watching her sleep. Her pale, freckled skin was tinted pink. Her lips were parted and her hands were clasped under her head. Jaime’s heart sped up as he moved toward her. She called out to him. By just being there, she called out to him. He thought about Cersei’s words from only moments before and his heart clenched. She was wrong about so much. She was wrong about him, about Brienne and about them. 

The youth he had been, carelessly mocking the idea of finding a mate outside his twin, seemed to be a different person. The foolish boy that didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, about how it felt to find the missing piece of his soul… Jaime shook his head. He could not look back on that now without annoyance. So much time spent fighting against what now seemed as the most natural thing in the known world. The happiness he thought he knew while buried in Cersei’s body paled in comparison. He knew true joy now.

Brienne rolled over and onto her back. Her eyes blinking against the late afternoon sun. She yawned, arching her spine and extending her arms above her head. He bit back a groan as the furs slipped down and a dusty pink nipple was revealed. She turned her head toward him and smiled sleepily. 

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to once again thank the Warrior and the Maiden for blessing my wretched soul,” he climbed on the bed, wrapping her up in his arms. She snuggled close to him, resting her head on his chest. “I need to run tonight,” he said, combing her hair with his fingers. “The second moon is not as powerful as the first. I should be able to control myself without bonds.”

“Yes,” she yawned again, tracing patterns on his chest. “It would do me well to return to my own bed chamber and sleep while the moon is high in the sky.”

He tightened his hold on her waist at the mention of her chamber. “I was actually hoping to spend time with you…” She paused her finger, tilting her head up to look at him. “As a wolf.” Her breath rushed out of her loudly. “I know the last time was not a good experience… for either of us.”

“That is not why I am hesitant,” she hastened to assure him. “It is… don’t you wish to be with your family? You missed the first full moon because of your wish to not harm me, I do not want you to miss this one as well spending it at my side.”

“I wish to always be at your side,” he whispered into her ear. She shivered and snuggled closer to him. “I was thinking that we could meet when the moon is at its highest point.”

“Where?”

“The garden,” she stiffened at his side. “It is where my wolf frightened you, it is not the memory I want you to have.”

“I’m not scared of you any longer, Jaime,” she leaned over him, her lips pressing to his in a quick kiss. “I know why you did what you did. Septa Roelle was a cruel woman as we discussed earlier. I do not blame you…”

“But you still think about it,” he pushed. “You still remember the fear you felt and it is _I_ that made you feel that.” He thought again to the words his twin said. “I have killed twice, neither do I regret, but I know that you cannot unsee the way I acted.”

“I,” she shook her head. “He protected me.”

“You have not said that you do not see the violence in your mind,” he noticed. “It is true then. The wolf frightened you… how do you expect to be with me if one part of my existence makes you nervous? We need to be together while I am in my animal form. I need you to trust me.”

“You are right,” she admitted haltingly as she rose up to sit against the wall. Jaime did the same, stretching his legs out on the bed. “I do think about that night. I do remember seeing you kill her. I think about it, but I am not scared of you, Jaime. If I was, I would not have come to you this morn. I would not have offered my body and my neck. I don’t fear being with you.”

“As the man,” he acknowledged, “but what about the beast?” She took his hand in hers and he squeezed it gently. “I think this is important, my siren… for the both of us. It is not just you that needs this. I do as well.”

Brienne leaned close to him, gently kissing his mouth, “We will meet when the moon is at its highest point by the fountain.”

He smiled at her, kissing her more soundly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. Deciding he needed to warn her about all that was happening in the castle, he said, “Cersei is back here.” Brienne stiffened against him. “She has lost her babe and has come to lick her wounds.”

“She came for you,” Brienne whispered. 

“Most likely,” he hated to admit. “But that is not to be. She knows that. She saw us,” his mate jerked in shock. “I did not think about it when we woke, but I know she came to my chamber after our coupling. She saw you with me. I have told her that you are my mate and that I love you.”

“I cannot believe she took that well,” she picked at fur around her. “She did not like me before she left the first time and that was while we were not one. She must hate me now.”

“Cersei will not be kind, but I will not let her come between us. No one can come between us.”

“I love you,” he got lost in her big blue eyes. His heart raced at hearing the words again.

“I love you, too,” he breathed, kissing her with all the passion he felt for her. Her reaction was immediate. She gripped him tightly to her, her mouth moving against his. He felt the heat rising in the room, felt his blood rush and knew if they did not stop he would take her for the third time that day. He pulled back from her, slowly and reluctantly. “You are dangerous, my siren wench.”

“As are you, my mighty Lion.” She grinned at him. Her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushing.

He groaned, kissing her again because he simply could not resist her. Breaking away once more, he told her his final discovery, “I have more to share with you.” He paused, his heart hurting thinking about his baby brother. “Tyrion has run away.” Brienne pulled back from him, her face stricken. “He took Tysha and left into the night.” Jaime felt the pain puncture his heart. “I knew he was desperate and I did not help him as an older brother should. Just as with your struggles with the Septa, I was blind and selfish.”

“Jaime,” she shook her head. “He would not have told you. Tyrion felt trapped by all that was happening to him. When I first realized his love for Tysha, I told him he could use me as a cover. That our union would give them a chance to be together…”

“I ruined that plan,” he smirked sadly. 

“It was not a sound plan to begin with,” she shrugged. “It would not have been fair to Tysha or to Tyrion to have their love hidden, when he should be able to scream from the roof how much Tysha means to him and he means to her.”

“That would not have been fair to you either,” he pulled her into him. “You would have lived without the love of a husband or the joy of children.”

“I had always been prepared for that,” she stated flatly and made his blood run cold. “I was told to never expect true feelings from the man I would wed. That coupling would be an act of duty, not one of pleasure and that I may never have babes of my own.” She looked away from him, biting at her lip. Jaime felt the coldness leave, replaced by rage. The Septa. She had to have been the one to fill her mind with such self-loathing. “Some women are not built for such acts.” He pressed his lips together to resist snarling. “So it would not have been such a bad life for me, a half one for sure, but not a bad one.”

“You see never being loved as not a bad life?” His mind could not handle the vision of her alone in a bridal bed thinking her life so unworthy of devotion from a man. It hurt him. It made him angry.

She tilted her head to look at him. “Tyrion would have loved me. He would have been kind and let me be who I am. I may never have known the touch of a man, at least not one passionate for me, but I would also not have been in fear of hateful words or a raised hand against me. Not all women can claim such a thing. Many women are beaten and raped, abused with more than just fists, I know Tyrion would never have done such horrible things.” Her blue eyes held his green ones. “So yes, my love, I do see that as a good life.”

“If I could have met you sooner,” he said with frustration. “I would have never let you think that was a good life. Women should be loved by the man that they lay with…”

“You know that is not the case,” she shrugged. “All you would have to do is look to the Queen to see that is not the way of things. She has been locked in a marriage built upon political standing and positioning, not on the whims of the heart. Most marriages are like that.” She leaned over to kiss him. “I just happen to be in love with my betrothed. We are one of the few.”

“I will make it my mission to remind you of that every morn when you rise and before you close those gorgeous blue eyes at night. You will always know that my heart beats for you.”

“As mine does for you, my mighty lion.” She pressed her mouth to his in a slow kiss that left him wanting more.

“I wish that I could stay in your arms till the end of our days, but…”

“Yes,” she nodded with a sigh. “We have to greet the world.” She bit her bottom lip and smiled a little shyly at the rumble of her stomach. “Uh…” She blushed, letting her hair cover her face.

Jaime let out a hearty laugh and stood, pulling her from the bed. The fur fell from her naked body and he barely held in a groan. His cock rose and hardened quickly at the sight of his mate’s bare and flushed skin. “I can have food brought to you,” he growled, suddenly not anxious at all to speak to his father about Tyrion.

She blushed deeper and pushed against him. “We can not stay trapped in this chamber for the rest of time. You need to go talk to your father and I need to send a raven to my father. I know you have sent one about our betrothal, but I wish to tell him as well.” She stepped closer to him. “I will see you when the moon is at its highest point.” Brienne kissed him soundly. “It is only a few hours away.”

He very reluctantly agreed, letting her dress- under his watchful eyes. The animalistic part of him itching to take her again. Once she was clothed, he held out his hand to her. She placed her left in his and he brought it up to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. 

“I will see you in a few hours, my siren.” Jaime walked her to the top of the stairs and kissed her knuckles then her lips. He hated letting her go, even for a moment, even for his father, but he was comforted by the knowledge they were together and would soon be one. “The garden by the fountain.”

She nodded, her sapphire eyes sparkling. “I will be there waiting.”

He watched her walk down the stairs toward the library. His stomach tightened as she disappeared from his sight. He felt eyes on him and looked around. Not a single person was around him. He sniffed the air, but nothing was amiss. The scent of the castle was the same, the sounds were as they should be, nothing should cause him concern…

Jaime shook his head. He was being ridiculous. The news of Tyrion leaving, Cersei returning, his engagement to Brienne and the closeness of the moon must be causing him to be more anxious than normal. He shrugged off the feeling of unease and headed to find his father.

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Tywin stood at the window and looked out at the sea. The waves were gathering strength, restless and violent. He pursed his lips together. The Sunset Sea seemed to sense his inner turmoil. All his thoughts strayed to his wayward son. The boy he rarely gave favor to, but could not quite believe was gone from his pack. As the Alpha, he should have been more vigilant in watching over his family. Whatever Tyrion had done severed his connection with him. It felt like he had lost a limb when the wolf went silent in his son. The bonds had been broken. Tyrion was now a lone wolf in the world- unprotected and unreachable.

The truth that he had always wished for that, to be free of the boy that killed his precious wife, and the reality of it did not meet well in his mind. Joanna had loved that boy with her whole heart. From the moment she had found out about him, Tyrion had been her sweet child. She would have been ashamed of the man she married. Her green eyes would have cut him open for being so callous with their boy. He knew that. She had told him that. Before the last light had left her eyes and the fucking Stranger had taken her away, she had pleaded with him to love their boy. Their baby- sweet Tyrion. 

He had never been able to grant her that. The mangled features and mismatched eyes had seemed to be the curse of the Gods. He could never see beyond the death that babe caused or the lack of beauty. He had let anger seed and grow in his heart. And it did grow- the rage built a wall and kept his youngest son out. 

Now he was gone. Tyrion was gone. Joanna was gone. The anger that he held onto so tightly made him weak and blind. The Alpha of the Lannister pack felt his age. He felt the weight of his own hubris settle on his shoulders and it was dragging him down. He turned from the window and the crashing waves. This was doing him no good. The actions of both father and son were done. The boy was on his own…

There was a knock on his solar door, he straightened his back, sniffing the air lightly. “Come in, Jaime.”

His oldest son entered, closing the door behind him. “Father.” He held himself still. “I have heard some distressing news about Tyrion…”

Tywin walked around the large desk and took a seat. He clasped his hands over his chest, staring at the man that would eventually lead the pack once he was no longer Alpha. “You have heard that Tyrion has left the pack.”

Jaime startled. “It is true then.”

“It is.”

His son fell heavily into the seat in front of the desk. “He had been reading a great deal about how to transition more easily. I do not see how being away from the pack will aid in that.”

“He has no wolf to transition into,” Tywin said frankly. Jaime’s eyes widened. “The link between us has been severed. That can only mean he has killed the animal part of himself.”

“No,” the younger man shook his head. “Tyrion would not…”

“He did,” Tywin snapped, his tone darkening. “There is no point in dwelling on the stupid and foolish actions of your brother. He made his decision and now we all must live with it.” His throat filled with bile. He swallowed it back. “He is not a member of this family any longer.”

Jaime’s emerald eyes flashed, “He is a Lannister. He will always be a part of this family.”

Tywin smoothed out his features as much as possible but it was difficult to hide his surprise at his eldest son’s visceral response. There was something different about his son. A shift in the air and in his demeanor. Tywin watched him carefully, his mind working over the way Jaime seemed to be changing. It was subtle, but there was a difference in him.

“Tyrion made his choice,” he asserted.

“Because he felt like he had no other,” Jaime pushed back, his tone sharp.

“Watch how you speak to me,” Tywin snarled. His control was slipping. Normally Jaime- and all of the other members of the pack- would instantly shift their eyes from him. They would return to their place and not dare challenge him again. Jaime was not so quick to do that this time. He’s gaze held longer. His mouth was pulled tighter. His hands curled into tighter fists. There was no denying it now. Jaime was finding his power and it would not be long before he would rise against Tywin. It seemed fitting that it was happening now- just as his own turmoil raged. “You have something you wish to say.”

Jaime struggled, but eventually he shook his head, “No.”

“Good,” Tywin stood. “Will you be joining us tonight? Or will you be with your mate?”

“I will be with the pack and with my mate,” he stated. “Cersei has returned.”

“I am aware,” Tywin nodded.

“She is not pleased with Brienne being my mate,” he looked uneasy saying those words. “She does not believe Brienne is worthy of the Lannister name.”

“Is that the only reason she disapproves of your mate,” Tywin watched his son shift. He would not meet his eyes. Tywin pursed his lips again. “It is no matter what your sister believes. I was the one that chose the _Maiden_ of Tarth,” his son’s cheeks turn a slight shade of red. “Hmm.” He tapped his fingers against the wooden top of his desk. “Cersei is a married woman. A Queen. But she is still in my pack- Robert had never been strong enough to break that bond.” Tywin frowned in disgust at his good son’s lack of conviction. And in his inability to plant a babe in his daughter- but could seed the whores and Lady’s of King’s Landing with bastards. “She will not do anything to harm the strength of the family.”

“I have made it clear that Brienne is mine,” Jaime told him. “We are betrothed. I have sent Lord Selwyn a raven to ask for her hand, but that is merely a formality. We _will_ be wed.”

“That, I am aware of as well,” Tywin stood. “You have taken her as yours.”

Jaime had the grace to blush a little once again. “I have.”

“And the bite,” Tywin asked. “A mate of yours will have to be a wolf. She is a weakness as a human.”

“She is still a human, but will accept the bite.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes. “Do it quickly. I will not have a good daughter that can not be one of us.”

“Brienne was your choice, as you said, and has always been human,” Jaime stood up and walked over to him. “Why is it suddenly so important for her to be a werewolf? Would you have forced Tyrion to bite her as well?”

“Tyrion was not ever going to be Lord of Casterly Rock,” Tywin said firmly. “He is not my heir. You are. Your cubs will be the ones to lead this family and I will not have my line sullied with human babes.” He stared at Jaime. “Bite her.”

Jaime straightened his shoulders and stiffened his back. “I will make her a werewolf when _I_ see fit. She is my mate and I will not force this life on her, if she doesn’t want it.” He turned to walk out but paused at the door, facing him once again. “You may be my Alpha and father, but you will not interfere with how Brienne and I handle the transition. If anyone tries to force this on her, I will rip them apart and not feel a drop of remorse.”

With that his son left him alone. Tywin stared at the closed door with narrowed eyes. It would not be long before Jaime took his place. He could see the shift and it settled his mind a little. Tywin returned to the window- the Sunset Sea didn’t seem as restless now.

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[](https://imgur.com/Wuxxr2h)

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Cersei pushed against the teen, forcing the young man into the darkened chamber. Her mind was raging and full of anger. Her body was taunt with pent up desire. That desire was for blood, but that would have to wait. She needed to release some of her anger and Lancel was the perfect tool to do that. He kissed her roughly and without any artistic manner. His youth once again showing. The boy’s tongue was sliding in and out of her mouth, pathetic in the hope of being sexually arousing. Cersei growled, biting his tongue hard. He pulled back, yelping in pain. She grinned and slammed him back into the wall by the door.

She placed his hands on her breasts though the material of her dress. Her nipples peaked up at the feel of his fingers gripping the generous globes. She rubbed herself against him, her cunt getting wet at the domination she had over her cousin. His eager cock hard against her thigh, begging to be seated within her. Her grin turned slightly evil. It would not be so quick. He would have to work for her dripping core. Cersei pushed him down to his knees. His face tipping up to look at her. Green eyes, so much like Jaime’s, wide with the desire to please her.

Pulling up her skirts, she presented herself to him. His gaze darkened and he licked his lips, leaning forward. The first touch of his tongue to her wet cunt nearly made her moan. She held on though. She would not give him the prize of her satisfaction so easily. He needed to know that she was to be worshiped. Lancel gripped her thighs, spreading her open for his mouth. She ground down on him. Her mind went nearly blank. She envisioned Jaime’s hands, Jaime’s mouth and pulled at her bodice to rub at her nipples. The hard buds tightened as her nails scraped against them. 

She let out a deep groan, releasing one of her breasts to grip his head hard. She felt him flinch, but he didn’t stop pleasing her. He had learned that if he did not make her feel good, he would wear her anger on his body. She continued to force him deeper inside of her, riding out the ecstasy of his exuberance. “Fuck,” she growled, “Don’t stop.”

He slid his hand up her thigh and inserted two fingers into her, thrusting them hard and fast. His mouth moved up to stimulate her clit. She started shuddering as the orgasm worked its way through her. “Such a good boy,” she praised, her grip on his hair tightening further. “Yes, uh, fuck.”

Lancel doubled his efforts to make her peak and she stiffened. Her body exploded as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She rode his face hard, not caring if she was hurting him or if he could breathe. She wanted this release. She wanted to take someone and he was oh-so-very willing. She lifted off of him and pointed to the bed. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling in his rush to fuck her. She wasted no time, pulling at the strings of his britches and pulling his cock from the confines. Cersei grinned at him. He was fully aroused, hard and hot in her hand. She climbed on him, sinking down on the throbbing member. 

She set a punishing pace. She didn’t care if he was getting enjoyment out of this. That wasn’t her aim. She wanted to fuck the anger from her body. She needed a clear head. Cersei scraped her nails down his chest, slapping at him. He winced and moaned. His cock thickened inside her. She pushed down harder, her left hand gripping his chin. 

“You like this?” He nodded, thrusting his hips up into her. “You would do anything for my cunt?” 

“Yes,” he howled, wrapping his hands around her thighs.

“You want to please me?”

“Yes,” he said again, his face red from pushing so hard into her. Sweat was covering them both, but only Cersei was in control. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Good,” she purred and leaned down to kiss him hard. He came inside her, his cock filling her with his seed. She shook over him, finding her own bliss at the control and his devotion. They settled, each panting and spent. She rose over him, touching his youthful face. “I have something I need you to do, Lancel. Tonight in the garden… I need you to do something for me…”

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[ ](https://imgur.com/Gjj2LdO)

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Power coursed through the animal as the moon settled high and large in the sky. Sharp eyes caught sight of the prey. She moved so carelessly around the flowers. Her hand reached out to touch leaves and petals, shaking the branches and filling up the air with different fragrances. Crouching low, the wolf moved quietly using the bushes and trees to conceal the large presence. Brienne sat down on the edge of the fountain, tipping her head up and closing her eyes. The wolf’s eyes locked on the pale neck that was exposed. Lips rolled back. One paw moved forward. Closer and closer. Quiet as can be.

Brienne lowered her head and looked around. The wolf continued to move, gaining speed. _Now!_ The prey was alone, no one would come to save her. _Blood!_ Visions of red blooming on her neck made the wolf snap it’s jaw.

The young woman’s eyes widened and she gasped!

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[ ](https://imgur.com/1ijhrmo)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
